The Mind of a Child
by Titan5
Summary: When McKay gets Sheppard to turn on an Ancient device, something goes horribly wrong. Some comfort, humor, and friendships.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Stargate Atlantis or any of its characters. I am simply borrowing them for a while.

Chapter One

Sheppard and McKay trudged tiredly down the corridor, each carrying several cases of equipment. They had been trying to walk side by side, but they were both beginning to lose their grip on one or more pieces of cargo and their collective array of baggage had spread out considerably. As their step got off sync with one another, some cases began knocking together. Both men were becoming annoyed as their efforts to rectify the situation proved fruitless. Sheppard finally came to a dead stop and threw all his cases on the floor.

"McKay, what the heck did you do, bring the whole lab? Why didn't you tell me you were bringing all this crap? We could have gotten someone to help carry this stuff. And where's Zelenka? Why can't he carry something? It would help if you would at least walk in a straight line. You weave almost as much when you walk as when you drive. You should come with a warning label." Sheppard was almost panting between the exertion of the past thirty minutes and his outraged tirade.

"Watch it, that's sensitive equipment," McKay cried, his face getting red in anger. "You can't just throw that stuff on the floor. You might damage it. It's not like we can run down to the corner 'science equipment is us' store and replace it, you know." McKay very gently set his cases down and began examining the materials Sheppard had loudly deposited on the floor.

The tension seemed to ease out of Sheppard as he stretched and began kneading the aching musces in his neck and shoulders. He sighed as he watched McKay tend to the equipement like the proverbial mother hen. "Look McKay," he said sheepishly, "I'm sorry about that. I guess I'm just tired. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that . . . or dropped your equipment so . . . hard."

McKay looked up, ready to go another round with the major until he saw the truly pitiful expression on his face. He felt the anger begin to subside. "Well, I guess it's okay. Nothing seems to be broken." He stood up and began gathering his cases together. "Weir was right, you _have_ perfected the wounded puppy dog look."

Sheppard grinned innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right," McKay muttered to himself.

Sheppard began gathering his cases. "So how much farther is this fabulous lab you and Zelenka discovered?"

McKay looked around to get his bearings. "Actually, we're almost there. It's right up here," he said, pointing to an area several doors down. They began walking, this time single file. "I should probably warn you, nothing seems to work. We can't even get the doors to open. There's always a chance it was a waste of time to drag you down here."

Sheppard's mouth dropped open a couple of inches. "And you're telling me this _now_?" He thought briefly about killing McKay where he stood, but dismissed the idea when he realized he'd have to carry all this equipment back by himself. "How do you know this place has cool stuff if you can't even get the door open?"

McKay rolled his eyes. "I didn't say we couldn't get it open at all, we just couldn't get it to open automatically. We pried it open with a crowbar," he said grinning proudly.

"So much for advanced technology," muttered Sheppard.

McKay stopped and deposited his load on the floor. Sheppard followed suit. "Okay, this is it. Let me dig in this bag to find the crowbar and I'll have it open in a . . ." McKay heard the sound of the door sliding open. Sheppard, standing right next to the opening, peeked in.

"I thought you said the door didn't work," he said, trying to hide a smile.

McKay sighed. "It figures." He looked up to see Sheppard go military with his P90 held steady and pointing forward. He took one slow step into the room, eyes sweeping the room for movement. As his foot hit the floor just inside the door, the lights immediately came on. Sheppard paused, blinking against the sudden change in light intensity.

"Lights work, too."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," sneered McKay. "What ever would we do without you?"

Sheppard put his gun down and smiled, satisfied that nothing evil lurked in the lab. "My guess is stumble around in the dark with a crowbar." With that, he walked into the lab and began looking around.

McKay began shoving cases into the lab. Life was so unfair. Why couldn't he have the Ancient gene? There was so much he could do with it. And he would have the proper respect and appreciation for it. Sheppard bounced between being proud he could activate things no one else could and being aggravated at being treated like a 'lab rat', as he put it. The man had no respect for what was important. If he couldn't fly it, shoot it, or blow it up, he wasn't interested. "Are you going to help me get this stuff in here or go window shopping? And don't touch anything!"

"Aw, keep your shirt on, McKay! I'm coming. I thought the whole reason you brought me down here was to touch stuff." Sheppard began hauling cases in from the hallway.

"Yes, yes, but only what I tell you to touch and when I tell you to touch it. This can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing."

Sheppard looked at McKay, a twinkle in his eye. "So when did you say Zelenka is going to get here?"

"Ha! Ha! A soldier and a comedian. I'll try to contain my laughter. I happen to know what I'm doing. And Zelenka should be here any minute . . . if he didn't get lost. Sometimes I wonder why we brought him."

"I heard that, Rodney," said Zelenka as he entered the room with a couple more cases of equipment. He looked around the room, somewhat suprised. "You got the lights on?" McKay just sighed again as Sheppard grinned.

Thirty minutes later, McKay and Zelenka were almost finished setting up equipment. They were currently huddled over a console in the center of one side of the room, arguing over the best way to hook everything up. Sheppard paced around the room nervously. He had examined every nook and cranny at least three times and he was really starting to get bored. It was a large room with several complicated consoles down three of the four walls. The only bare wall was the one with the door. Each console had a complex array of buttons and plates. Most of them were the same size and looked very similar, except for the center console the two scientists were working on now.

Sheppard leaned his back against the wall and rubbed his eyes as he yawned. He hadn't slept well in several nights and it was beginning to catch up to him. Every time he closed his eyes, he either replayed events he wished he could have changed or worried about various aspects of their current situation. He could really use a nap. "McKay, when you guys get done with all your setting up and arguing, give me a holler. I think I'm going to close my eyes for a minute. I'm operating on about two hours of sleep and you guys are boring me into a coma."

"You don't have time for a nap," said McKay. "We're ready. Come over here and let's put your Ancient gene to work. _It_might as well do something since the rest of you has been pretty useless up until now."

Sheppard put on his best 'I'm hurt' expression and replied, "Hey, at least I got the door open and the lights on."

"Just get over here! Now _I'm_ getting bored," said McKay.

Sheppard strode over to the console andplaced his P90 on an empty table next to it. He sat down in the chair situated in front of the center part of the controls. The floor panel under the chair began to glow with a blue light. "Cool," he whispered.

McKay and Zelenka looked at one another. They had stepped on that same panel at least a dozen times each in the past half hour, but nothing unusual had happened until now. McKay rubbed his hands together in anticipation, This was going to be good. "Okay, major, I think you put your hands there and then . . .I guess . . .just . . .think it on."

Sheppard noticed what looked like two hand print depressions on the console. They looked almost familiar. They looked like the depressions he had put his hands in on the planet Dagan when they were searching for a ZPM. The poor schmuck who put his hands into those same depressions right before him had been killed. He glanced nervously up at McKay. "Uh, . . .are you sure this is . . . safe?"

"Positive," replied McKay without hesitation. "Well, at least . . . I mean this is nothing like the ones on Dagan. This is in Atlantis, for heaven's sake. There's no need to protect anything. I'm sure it's perfectly safe." McKay nodded, having convinced himself, if not Major Sheppard.

Sheppard still looked uncertain, but turned his attention back to the handprints. "Okay, here goes." He raised his hands, McKay almost drooling to see what happened next. Then he paused and turned to the two scientists. "Maybe you guys better step back."

McKay thought a minute and then nodded, "That might not be a bad idea Radek. We don't actually know what this thing does." The two men stepped back a couple of steps.

Sheppard just stared at the men for a second. He shook his head in wonder and then turned back to the console. Raising his hands again, he slowly placed them in the handprint depressions. He was relieved when nothing grabbed his wrists or stabbed him in the hand. As he began to relax, the console began to hum.

McKay and Zelenka were aware of the humming noise building in the console. McKay's heart began to beat wildly in anticipation of what would come next. He lived for this stuff. The blue light being emitted from the panel under Sheppard's chair suddenly reached up and took Sheppard in completely. McKay thought he heard him whisper, "Cool,". That didn't seem bad.

Suddenly, the blue light flickered, as if it was going out. Just as suddenly, the intensity flashed twice as bright as it had been in the beginning. McKay and Zelenka could no longer see Sheppard, just the bright, blinding light. The hum had also grown in intensity and McKay realized Zelenka was trying to shout something to him. He leaned closer, yelling, "What?"

"Is the major okay?" shouted Zelenka.

"I don't know. I can't see him." Just as McKay finished answering, the blue light seemed to withdraw back into the floor panel it had originated from and extinguish completely. Sheppard was sitting in the chair, his back to them. As they rushed forward to see if he was okay, he leaned to one side limply and began sliding out of the chair.

McKay and Zelenka reached the major quickly and eased him onto the floor. His eyes were about half open, but glassy and unseeing. McKay was relieved to find a pulse, even if it was racing faster that he would have thought possible. "Major, can you hear me? Come on Sheppard, talk to me. I need you to look at me and say something. I am not carrying all of this stuff back by myself, so you better wake up."

He had barely finished speaking when Sheppard jerked hard, arching his back off the floor as his muscles contracted sporadically. His legs stiffened and his hands curled into tight fists. He let out a small moan as he clinched his teeth. His entire body seemed to spasm for a moment before his eyes rolled back in his head and he went completely limp.

McKay was already screaming into his headset, "We have a medical emergency. I need a medical team NOW!"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

About forty minutes later, Beckett raced into the lab with a gurney-pushing medical team hot on his heels. McKay immediately moved out of the way so the doctor could kneel beside the major's still figure. "Has there been any change?" he asked as he bent over Sheppard and began taking his pulse.

"Same as I told you on the radio. Pulse is very weak and very rapid. He hasn't moved so much as a muscle since it happened." McKay reported. "We couldn't find a blanket, so we covered him with our jackets."

"Ya did fine." Beckett swiftly began cutting Sheppard's shirt open and attaching the leads from the heart monitor to his chest, while one of the nurses started an IV. It seemed like only seconds before they had him hooked up and ready to transport. The blipping of the monitor was so fast, it reminded McKay of a runaway freight train. How could anyone's heart beat that fast for that long?

"All right, let's move him." McKay helped them lift Sheppard to the gurney. He then backed out of the way so Beckett could adjust the IV line and monitor wires. He watched as the doctor then made one last check on Sheppard's vital signs. Satisfied, he nodded toward the door of the lab.

McKay and Zelenka followed closely behind the team pushing the gurney to the door. As the gurney with Sheppard crossed over the threshold, all the panels, consoles, and lights in the room immediately went dark. McKay and Zelenka paused and looked back into the room and then at each other.

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As Weir entered the infirmary, she saw McKay and Zelenka standing around the entrance to the treatment area. McKay was pacing nervously and wringing his hands, while Zelenka just stood with his eyes closed, rubbing his forehead.

"How is Major Sheppard?" she asked.

McKay just shook his head. "We don't know anything yet. Beckett's still with him. Elizabeth...it's my fault. I told him it was safe . . . I told him I was positive it was safe, when of course there was no way I could know if it was safe, but in my arrogant desire to find out - "

"Rodney!" Elizabeth interrupted. "We're not here to assign blame and you can give me the details later. I got the basics from your conversation with Beckett. I just want to know if Major Sheppard's going to be okay."

As if on cue, Carson Beckett joined them. Having overheard Weir's last statement, he began to address it. "I'm not sure I can answer that just yet. He's still unconscious . . . completely unresponsive, actually. His pulse and blood pressure are very high right now and that's got me quite concerned. Other than that, I can't find anythin' wrong. We're about to start running some tests . . . blood work, X-rays, CAT scan, MRI . . . basically, anything that might give us a hint as to what's goin' on. That'll take most of the day. You guys might as well run along and not be standin' here underfoot."

McKay looked at Zelenka. "We could go back to the lab and look around. Maybe we can find something helpful."

"No!" snapped Weir. "I don't want to risk this happening to anyone else. I don't think anyone needs to go near that place until we figure this out."

McKay shook his head. "Elizabeth, we have to go back. We may be able to find something that could help the major. Nothing will happen to us - Sheppard seems to be the only one that can activate anything in that room. Believe me, I tried repreatedly before we drug him down there." Elizabeth still looked uncertain. "Elizabeth, please let me do this. It may be his only chance. I can analyze the computer readings from . . . whatever it was that happened. That could help."

Weir looked at McKay's pleading expression. She glanced at Zelenka, who calmly nodded to her. Thank goodness at least one of them was in control. "All right Rodney, but you go slowly, be careful, and if anything so much as flickers, you hightail it out of there, is that clear?"

McKay nodded enthusiastically. "We'll let you know what we find." He turned and practically ran out of the room. Zelenka touched her arm briefly, but firmly and said, "I'll make sure he takes care." And then they were gone.

When McKay and Zelenka arrived back at the lab, they paused outside the door before going in. They were both trying to rid themselves of the image of Sheppard's pale, limp body on the floor of the room. McKay shuddered slightly. "Let's do this," he said. The doors were open. Apparently they never closed after the group left earlier. McKay stepped one foot into the room. No lights. He brought the other foot in and looked around expectantly. Still nothing.

"Face it Rodney. As much as it hurts to admit, Major Sheppard has it and you don't. If you'll actually let me in the room, we can start getting this stuff together." He began to mumble to himself in his native language as he stepped around McKay.

The two men began glumly disconnecting instruments and packing them into their cases. Once that task was complete, McKay searched the room for any inscriptions in Ancient that might shed some light on whatever had happened to Sheppard. He found a couple of panels in the contol consoles with writing and proceeded to take digital photos he could examine later. The two scientists looked at the pile of equipment to be carried back. McKay looked at Zelenka. "Do you want to call for a taxi or should I?"

Zelenka sighed. "I'll let you have the honors."

Twenty-four hours later, Beckett discovered Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard's team loitering around in the infirmary, waiting on news. Beckett looked exhausted. His eyes were weary and had dark circles underneath them. He sighed and held up his hand as they began to barrage him with question. When they had quieted down, he filled them in.

"I don't know much more than I did yesterday, I'm afraid. His pulse and blood pressure soar sky high for two to three hours and then plummet to near coma levels for two to three hours. Then we start all over. Blood work is all normal. CAT scan and MRI show nothing. The only other problem is the EEG. At first, the readings were all over the place, showing a lot more activity than normal and almost no perceivable pattern. Since yesterday, it has fallen in sync with his blood pressure and pulse. When they are high, his EEG looks a seismograph during amajor earthquake. Then, when they drop, the EEG levels drop off just as sharply. I've never seen anythin' like it. I've been through every medical book and journal that I brought with me . . . nothing even close. I just . . . don't know what to do."

They stood in silence for a few minutes. Weir turned to McKay. "Did you and Zelenka find anything in the lab yesterday?"

"I"m not sure yet. We found some Ancient writing, which we are still translating. We're still trying to anaylze the readings we took during . . . the event. There are some odd energy spikes and we're trying to isolate the source and cause. I think there may be some answers there, we just haven't got it all put together yet. Radek is working on it now. I told him I'd be back with a report on how the major is doing. He's . . . worried."

"As we all are," said Teyla.

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Three days after Sheppard collapsed in the Ancient lab, Beckett left his office to find McMay staked out beside the major's bed. Sheppard had remained unconscious and unmoving the entire time. He lay perfectly still, IV line on the right side of his bed and heart monitor beeping away on the left side. In addition, electrodes connected Sheppard's head to an EEG machine sitting next to the IV pole. McKay sat in a chair just a few feet from the heart monitor, working feverishly on his laptop and muttering to himself. He looked almost as tired as Carson Beckett felt.

"Rodney?" McKay looked up at Beckett and rubbed the aching muscles in the back of his neck. "How long have you been here?"

McKay looked at his watch. "Oh, a couple of hours I think." He got up and set the laptop in the chair so he could stretch. Yawning, he walked over to where Beckett stood at the foot of the bed. "I don't suppose you know anything new?"

"No," Beckett sighed dejectedly. "Did you and Zelenka find anything?"

"Not yet. I still think the answer is there somewhere. Did you ever look at something so long that, after a while, you're don't feel like you're really seeing it any more? That's where I'm at. I thought I'd get out of the lab a while and see if I could clear my head."

Beckett glanced at the laptop on the chair and then back at McKay. "And yet you brought you're laptop."

"Different problem entirely. I _have_ to work on something. You know I can't just . . . " McKay's voice trailed off and he appeared to be focusing on something past Beckett. "Is he . . . " McKay began walking toward Sheppard's bed.

When Beckett looked at the major, he noticed what McKay was excited about. Sheppard's eyes were definitely doing a fluttering act. Beckett moved to the other side of the bed. He looked over at the monitor to see that, for the first time since this whole thing began, Sheppard's vitals were actually close to being normal. They watched as the major struggled to open his eyes.

Beckett leaned in slightly. "Major Sheppard? It's Dr. Beckett. Can you hear me?"

As Sheppard's eyes finally opened, they moved around the room, trying to focus and take in his surroundings. He moved his mouth as if he was trying to say something, but nothing much came out. Beckett gently lifted his head a few inches and placed a straw to his lips. "Take a sip, major, but not much."

Sheppard drew in a few sips of water. Beckett pulled the cup away and eased his head back down to the pillow. "That's good, lad. Now how do you feel?"

Sheppard looked up at him and smiled. "I'm good." It came out scratchy and low, his voice still not back to normal. "How are you?" he asked.

Beckett looked a little suprised at the question. "I'm okay."

McKay gently put his hand on Sheppard's shoulder. "Look, major, I'm sorry about what happened. I really didn't think anyone would get hurt. I guess I . . .misjudged . . . the potential for danger."

Sheppard looked up at McKay and smiled. "That's okay. It was still kind of fun."

McKay and Beckett looked at one another in disbelief. They had both been waiting on a blast of insults and death threats from Sheppard, not immediate forgiveness. Something was very wrong.

Beckett looked down at Sheppard. "Lad, do you know who we are?"

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Well, duh! You're Dr. Beckett and he's Dr. McKay. You ask silly questions."

McKay and Beckett were getting more nervous by the minute. Sheppard moved his hand and the IV line pulled slightly. "OW!" He looked at the IV line entering the back of his right hand, touching it gently and rubbing the tape. "This hurts! I want you to take it out." He held his hand out to Beckett and waited expectantly.

Beckett looked totally confused. "Well, lad, I . . .er . . . I wasn't going to - "

"Please take it out. I don't like it, it hurts. Please!" He kept thrusting his hand out to Beckett, waiting on him to remove the IV.

"Well, you're vitals are strong . . . and you're conscious now, so . . . I guess I could remove it." Beckett removed the tape anchoring the IV. Sheppard hollered, "Ouch!" each time he did. He then pulled the IV needle out and covered it with a small piece of gauze. "Hold this," he told Sheppard. "Put a little pressure on it. I'll get you a band-aid in a second."

Sheppard held the gauze in place for a couple of seconds and then lifted it to look underneath. He seemed to be amazed. He turned to McKay and showed him the small wound on his hand and the blood-spotted gauze peeled back above it. "Look. It's blood. My blood. " He replaced the gauze on the wound and grinned. McKay was too shocked to say anything. He just continued to stand there with his mouth open.

Beckett returned and took Sheppard's hand. He removed the gauze and checked the puncture wound. Satisfied that the bleeding was minimal, he placed a band-aid on the injury. Sheppard looked at it. "Cool! Look!" he proudly showed McKay. "I got a band-aid!" He tried to sit up, but the heart and EEG monitor wires pulled on him.. He looked frustrated. "I don't want these on me. Could you take these off too?" He began pulled on the electrodes attached to his scalp.

Beckett looked shell-shocked. He just couldn't take this weird turn of events in fast enough. He finally got himself together and took hold of the major's wrist. "I need you to stop doin' that. If you'll be good and sit still, I'll take all these things off you, lad. But you're goin' to have to sit still and quit pullin' on them." Sheppard nodded and put his hands down, so Beckett began to disconnect the EEG electrodes.

Sheppard looked strained. "Could you please go faster? I gotta pee," he said as heplayed nervously with the edge of the sheet.

"Okay," replied Beckett. And he did move faster. Soon, he had all the electrodes removed. They got an "Ouch," each time he pulled a heart monitor electrode from Sheppard's chest, since it pulled out a few chest hairs. "Major, we have to remove the catheter first." Beckett quickly pulled the privacy screens closed and removed the catheter from a squirming and complaining patient. He couldn't help but think this was getting weirder by the minute.

Beckett motioned for McKay, who hadn't uttered a word in several minutes, to help him get Sheppard up. Each one took an arm and helped the major get to his feet. As Beckett had expected, Sheppard's legs buckled almost immediately. "WOW! That's weird," commented Sheppard as the wave of dizziness washed over him. They continued to support him as he got his balance and some strength returned to his legs. The two men helped the major to the facilities. He was moving more on his own by the time they got to the door and began to enter the room.

"Do you need any help?" asked Beckett.

Sheppard looked offended. "No! I can do it by myself." And he closed the door.

McKay looked at Beckett. "Do you want to call Elizabeth, or shall I?"

"I don't _want_ to call her at all." Beckett sighed heavily. "I guess I will." He hit the button to his headset. "Dr. Weir, this is Dr. Beckett. We need you in the infirmary."

Weir's voice answered almost immediately. "Carson, it's Elizabeth. Is John awake?"

Beckett looked at McKay and shrugged. "In a manner of speaking. You need to get down here. I think we may have a problem."

McKay just shook his head in amazement. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a gift for the understatement? Jeez, we _may_ have a problem? I think it's more like we are in the middle of a complete cataclysmic disaster!"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Once again, thanks for all the kind reviews. You guys really keep me going.

Chapter 3

Dr. Weir spotted Dr. Beckett and Dr. McKay immediately upon entering the infirmary and headed straight for them. The two men were engaged in conversation, their brows knitted in obvious concern. Noticing her approach, the two men stopped talking and turned to face her. She was busily trying to read their expressions, when movement directly behind them caught her attention. She slowly came to a stop, mouth slightly agape. About ten feet behind the men she was approaching, Major Sheppard, clothed in scrubs, sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. She was pretty sure she had never seen him sit like that...ever. He held a small, kidney-shaped metal pan in his right hand and was waving it around in the air. She frowned. Was he making motor noises?

As Weir very slowly took the last couple of steps needed to close the distance between herself and the pair of men still staring at her, Sheppard saw her. He grinned from ear to ear and waved enthusiastically. "Hi, Dr. Weir! Look! I've got a band-aid." And he pointed to the band-aid on his right hand, covering the place where the IV had been. Weir absently brought her hand up and waved back. She was going to wake up in a few minutes and laugh at this very weird dream. She looked at the two men next to her, but they both seemed speechless.

"What is Major Sheppard doing?" she asked.

"If I'm not mistakin', I think he's playin' airplanes," replied Beckett.

Weir shook her head slightly. "I'm sorry, Carson. I thought you said playing airplanes."

"He did." piped in McKay.

"You're kidding, right?" She suddenly looked as though she just got the punchline of a joke. "Oh, I get it, it's 'let's get Weir day'. Ha! Ha! you guys. Joke's over."

The two men looked at each other and then looked back at her. Neither of them cracked so much as a flicker of a smile. _You guys are good_, she thought to herself.

"Elizabeth, this is no joke," said Beckett, an edge of worry in his voice. "Major Sheppard's not right. He's bloody well acting like a . . . six or seven year old."

Elizabeth leaned around the men in time to see Sheppard land his "airplane" on the bed. He seemed totally oblivious to the trio talking just a few feet away. _Oh my gosh, he does remind me of my six year old nephew._

"How did this happen? Is it . . ."

"I don't know," replied Beckett. "And that goes for both questions. The only thin' I know to do is repeat all the tests we ran three days ago and compare the results. I know his vitals are okay now. I didn't get much of a look at the EEG before he started pullin' off electrodes. Maybe if we look at the results now as compared to normal and what we got three days ago, it can tell us somethin'."

"Zelenka and I are still sifting through the data we collected the day . . . you know. Anyway, we're coming closer to having everything together, we just still don't know if it will lead us anywhere. I keep thinking the answer has to be there somewhere."

"What is actually going on with him?" she asked, turning back to Dr. Beckett. "Has he lost him memory, is he in any pain, what do you know?"

"Well, he seems fit as a fiddle. He's relaxed and happy. As a matter of fact, that's the most relaxed I've ever seen the man. And you have to watch it. He doesn't much care what he says. Memories are still there. I don't know if all life memories are accessible right now, but he remembers who we are, where we are, and what we're doin' here. He even seems to remember a little of what happened in the Ancient lab. But everything is going through the mind of a six year old. Because of that, he may know something, but not understand it. He may not be the exact six year old he was a child, but make no mistake about it, he is operating with the mind of a child . . . a very young child. I think we're going to have to treat him as such right now."

Weir became momentarily distracted. "Uh, Rodney," she began as she nodded towards Sheppard. Rodney turned to see that Sheppard, having become bored with his airplanes, had taken up residence in McKay's chair with his laptop. The major was busily typing away with two fingers as he scrutinized the screen. Rodney whirled around and raced to the chair at a pace neither Weir nor Beckett realized he was capable of on such short notice.

"No,no,no! You can't play with that. So help me , you better not have messed up my formula!" Sheppard quit typing as McKay reached his side and proudly proclaimed, "I fixed it."

McKay's face drained of color as he scooped up the laptop. He was muttering under his breath. "Oh no! Oh no! Please not the formula." He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the screen. In a minute, he pecked out a few things and then looked amazed.

"So, did he destroy your file, Rodney?" asked Weir.

McKay just sat on the bed, his mouth open. Beckett couldn't resist a cut. "Rodney, you're goin' to catch flies with yer mouth open like that."

"I fixed it," Sheppard repeated. "That was fun. Do you have more games like that? Or maybe we could go out and play." Sheppard quickly became distracted rattling instruments on the table next to his bed.

"Rodney, are you okay?" Weir finally asked.

He looked up at them, his eyes wide in disbelief. "He really did fix it. And from what I can tell . . . it's right. I've been working on that formula for almost two weeks. I was trying to find a way to make the correct energy conversions when connecting our technology with the ancient technology so that we don't get all the energy spikes. I kept getting stuck on this one part, but he . . . How is this possible? He shouldn't have understood that formula as an adult, much less as a child. It doesn't make any sense."

Beckett sighed heavily. "Rodney, since when do you expect anythin' in this place to make sense?"

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McKay returned to the lab and worked there with Zelenka the rest of the day. Around noon, Zelenka suggested they take a break and get some lunch.

"You go ahead, Radek. I need to stay at it. I'm just not getting anywhere with this."

Zelenka knew Rodney was troubled about everthing happening to Major Sheppard. He had worked quietly all morning. He had completely ignored all attempts to bait him into their characteristic war of sarcasm. Now he didn't want to eat. Rodney was very definitely upset. Suddenly, McKay picked up a pen and hurled it across the room, missing Zelenka's head by inches.

"Rodney! Are you crazy? Are you trying to kill me?"

"I'm sorry, Radek. I didn't mean to . . . This is just so frustrating!" He got up and started pacing nervously. "I told him it was safe. I told him he'd be okay. And then, what did I do? I backed up so I wouldn't get hurt. Here Sheppard, turn it on, but don't stand too close to me when you do it. He trusted me and I let him down. He's never let me down. He's never told me it was safe when it wasn't."

"Rodney! You've got to get a hold of yourself. It's not your fault! The major knew what he was doing. It's not like he hasn't been zapped by ancient devices while turning them on before. He knows the risk. He would have said no if he thought it was too dangerous."

"You don't understand, Radek. The man has saved my sorry butt more times that I can remember. We're supposed to have each other's back . . . but I didn't have his. He's my friend. I don't have very many of those and I'd kind of like to keep the one's I've accumulated. I just wish . . . " His voice trailed off as he heard himself saying _I'm sure it's perfectly safe._

Zelenka placed his hand gently on McKay's shoulder. "I'm your friend too. And I've actually gotten to know Major Sheppard pretty well. I kind of like him, now that I am no longer afraid of him." McKay actually smiled very briefly. "This was not your fault and I think if the adult major was here with us, he would agree. I think he would be very upset with you that you are taking the blame for it. We are dealing with the unknown, Rodney. No one knows that better than you. Things will happen and they will not always be good. We must deal with them as best we can and go on. You can't help Major Sheppard if you pass out. Let's go get something to eat."

McKay sadly nodded his head. "Thank you Radek," he said softly as they walked out the door.

-----------------------------------------------

While McKay and Zelenka were working in the lab, Beckett and his medical staff got the pleasure of running tests on Major Sheppard. Nothing could have prepared him and his staff for running tests on a terrified six year old child in the body of a six-foot-two, battle-trained soldier in tip top shape. Sheppard had seemed nervous and scared when Beckett began trying to explain all the tests they would be doing, so Beckett called in Teyla. He thought her calmness and soothing voice might keep the childlike Sheppard from being too afraid. And Teyla's presence did help . . . at least at first. She reassured him and held his hand as they began making preparations. He seemed to trust her and was willing to follow her instructions. The trouble began when they came to draw blood. Apparently, as a six year old, Sheppard was terrified of needles. They still might have been okay except for one thing . . . Sharon Moss.

Beckett admitted afterward that it was a serious error in judgement to send her to collect blood. She was young and inexperienced. To make matters worse, she had a serious crush on the major. He wasn't sure what had rattled her - the inexperience, the crush on Sheppard, or the sight of her crush behaving like a six year old. Whatever it was, it took her no less that five probing needle sticks to finally find a vein. Sheppard was brave through the first couple of stabs, he just kept holding Teyla's hand as she told him to hold still and it would all be over shortly. By the third stick, he was crying and pleading with the nurse to stop. It took two extra nurses to hold his arm still for four and five. When the blood finally began to spurt into the collecting tubes, Sheppard was near hysterics.

Teyla sat on the exam table with Sheppard, her arms around his chest and his head on her shoulder for a good thirty minutes after the blood was collected. He was shaking and crying and wouldn't let anyone else near him at first. Slowly, with her reassuring touch and soothing voice, she calmed him down. When Sheppard was relaxed again, Beckett decided the do the EEG. Since he was already familiar with having the leads attached to his head, Beckett thought it would be less traumatic. The major actually thought that one was kind of cool. By the time they were ready for the CAT Scan and MRI, Beckett had called in reinforcements from off-duty personnel. He wanted to use contrast dye to get more detailed results and that would require needles.

The whimpering began as soon as they brought out the needle. Teyla managed to keep him calm during the intitial injection, but as soon as the tingling warmth hit his veins, he was terrified again. He pleaded with them to please stop hurting him. Beckett actually saw one of the nurses wipe away a tear. He just tried not to think about it. There was a reason he never went into pediatrics and this was pretty much it. Amazingly enough, they did finally get Sheppard to lie still enough to complete the testing. Just when Beckett thought everything was finally over, the lab sent word they needed one more vial of blood. At this point, Beckett almost cried. He decided to draw the blood himself.

Sheppard was curled up in a fetal position on the bed, his head in Teyla's lap. His hands were balled up into fists just in front of his face and he was chewing on one finger. His eyes were red and swollen and his face tear-streaked. He was shaking ever so slightly, letting out a strained whimper periodically. Teyla stroked his hair, telling him that everything was going to be all right. Beckett watched, mesmerized, for a minute. Teyla would make a fine mother some day. Mother. Warrior. What a contrast. He kept telling himself that he had to do this for Major Sheppard. Slowly, he walked up to the table.

Sheppard began to breathe hard and whimper louder almost immediately. He had not missed the blood collecting materials in Beckett's hand. Beckett nodded at Teyla and then knelt in front of Sheppard. It broke his heart when the major pulled back from him, as if afraid. "Major, I'm afraid the lab needs just a wee bit more blood. I know you've been through a lot today. If you let me do this, I'll be as gentle as I can and, I promise, no one will stick you with any more needles today. What do ya think? Can you do it one more time?"

Sheppard continued to stare ahead and chew on his finger, so that Beckett wasn't even sure he had heard him. And then Sheppard took his hand out of his mouth and focused his eyes on Beckett. There was a brief flash of something less child-like in his eyes. There and gone. Or did he imagine it? "No more after this?"

"No more, lad. You have my word."

Sheppard seemed to accept this. He held out his arms to Beckett, who cringed when he saw how battered and bruised they looked. He selected the left arm -- less puncture marks. Carefully, he tied on the tubing, found a vein, hit it easily the first time (for that, he would be eternally grateful), and drew out one tube of blood. Sheppard watched it all without flinching. It was as if he was exhausted, all the fight drained out of him. Beckett finished applying the band-aid. "No more needles today. I promise."

Sheppard smiled his thanks. As Beckett turned to leave a few minutes later, he noticed Sheppard's eyes were closed and he was breathing evenly. Beckett had been on a roller coaster of pity, anger, and sheer exhaustion today. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Sheppard was feeling. How did they end up in these messes? How were they ever going to get out of this one? As if reading his mind, Teyla said, "We will find a way to restore Major Sheppard. There are many good people working on the situation. I trust that all will be well."

"I hope yer right, lass, I sure do hope yer right. And thank you for yer help today. I do not think any of us could have gotten through this without ya. Most especially him," he said as he nodded towards Sheppard.

"Major Sheppard is my friend. I will always do anything in my power to help him." She looked down at his sleeping form. "When he wakes, may I take him to get something to eat?"

"Aye, that may not be a bad idea after what he's been through today. Do him good to get out of here for a few minutes, although you'll have to keep your eyes on him. Let me know when he wakes up so I can make sure he's okay."

Teyla nodded and went back to stroking the sleeping form before her. "Rest major. We will take care of you. Just rest."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sheppard emerged from behind the curtain wearing uniform pants and a black T-shirt. He had insisted that he couldn't possibly go eat in his pajamas (scrubs), so Beckett had sent out for some clothes. He walked up to Teyla and smiled. "Can we go eat now? I'm hungry."

Teyla looked over at Beckett. "May we go now?"

"Aye, just don't let him out of yer sight. Come back here when yer done and I'll bed him down for the night." He looked at Sheppard and smiled. "And if Teyla tells me you were good, maybe you can go for a walk or somethin' tomorrow."

Sheppard nodded as he quietly looked down at the floor. Beckett thought he seemed troubled. "Is somethin' botherin' you lad? If you tell me, maybe I can help."

Sheppard hesitated, continuing to stare at the floor for a moment. He began nervously twisting his right foot, arching his heel up off the floor and pivoting on the ball of his foot. "I just wanted . . . I just thought . . . " Sheppard looked up at Beckett with sad eyes. "I'm sorry . . . for being so much . . . trouble. I was just . . . I was scared." He quickly looked back at the floor, embarrassed.

Beckett swallowed hard. He wasn't sure what to say. After a minute, he gently took Sheppard by the wrists and turned his arms so that his forearms were up. Puncture marks and bruises were scattered down both arms. He thought of all the times they had roughly held the major down and jabbed him with needles that day. On several occasions, Sheppard had been stuck multiple times because, as his staff quickly discovered, it's hard to find and maintain a vein in a moving target. The whole staff originated from military or research institution backgrounds, so no one was experienced in dealing with a child. And it was hard to think of Sheppard as a child when he was taller that anyone on the medical staff. When you really got down to it, they had treated him like an adult that was acting like a baby. They had been rough and impatient most of the day. It wasn't until he had seen the major curled up on the bed with his head in Teyla's lap that he truly realized they were dealing with a child. And they hadn't done a very good job.

"Look, I think you did very well. I think maybe we should be apologizin' to you. I didn't mean to be so rough with ya, lad. I promise, if at any point we have to use any more needles, we'll be a lot more patient and a lot more gentle."

Sheppard gently pulled his arms back and wrapped them around his waist, still looking at the floor. "Okay," he said softly. They stood there in an awkward silence for what seemed like a long time before Sheppard finally raised his eyes to look at Beckett. "I know something's wrong with me. I'm . . . different now. Everyone looks at me funny." His eyes bore into Beckett's as he asked, "Can you fix me?"

Beckett felt like someone had kicked him in the gut, taking his breath away. He could barely breathe and there was definitely the feel of the proverbial 'lump in the throat'. He hadn't expected this at all. He wasn't even aware that Sheppard thought there was something wrong with him. _I am so losing my touch, _he thought to himself. How could he explain this to a six year old when he didn't have a clue what was going on himself? Should he just lie and assure Sheppard that everything would be okay? No. The eyes were the same as they had always been. They were Sheppard's eyes and they were begging him to tell the truth, no matter what it was. Even as a child, the major needed to know what he was up against.

"Major - "

"Don't call me that," he snapped. He hesitated, and then, "I'm not really a major right now. It's just John."

"Okay . . . John. I don't really know just yet. We have a lot of good people working on the problem and I have faith that they will figure this thin' out. But I cannot guarantee that we will be able to reverse what has happened to you." He paused a second before continuing. "You do know that, if we can't . . . fix the problem and return you to the way you were . . . we will take care of you. We won't let anythin' happen to you. And that is something I_can_ promise." Beckett smiled at the major and was relieved when the major smiled back.

"Okay," he said. "Thank you." And Beckett knew he meant it.

Somewhere between the infirmary and the mess hall, Sheppard slipped his hand in Teyla's. He did it instinctively for security and she was pretty sure that he wasn't consciously aware of what he'd done. When they arrived at the mess hall, however, she became uncomfortable with the arrangement. Although it was late and there weren't many people there, the ones that were had begun to stare at them. She wasn't sure how much the general population knew about Major Sheppard's condition, so it was hard to figure out how they were interpreting the hand holding. She finally decided to ignore the stares and hope the major didn't notice.

They collected their food trays without incident and sat down at an empty table. Sheppard attacked the food like he hadn't eaten in days. Teyla watched him, eating at a somewhat slower pace. She had decided to actually chew her food before trying to swallow it.

"Maj . . . John," _Wow, that feels weird. _"I wanted to ask you something . . . if you don't mind answering a question."

"I don't care," he mumbled, his mouth full of food.

"I was just wondering, how much do you remember about . . . before?"

John stopped chewing for a second, then slowly resumed, looking deep in thought. He looked at her as he finished swallowing. "I remember who everyone is. I kind of remember who I like and who I don't like. I know we are in Atlantis and we came from earth." He cocked his head slightly to one side, as if trying to remember something. "There are little things I kind of remember . . . but they are like a dream . . . and I don't really understand them. I'm not sure if they're or not."

"Like what?"

"Like . . . being scared of a really big bug that was biting me . . . and a big storm . . . and flying. Just stuff." He shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating.

A large, balding man in a sweaty white T-shirt came out of the back room, looked around, and then walked over to their table, smiling as if he had found just what he was looking for. As it turned out, he found just _who_ he was looking for. "Major Sheppard, maybe you can help me. The door to the food supply closet won't open. I thought since you have the Ancient gene, maybe you could coax it open. Follow me!" Without waiting on a reply, he turned and hurriedly walked toward the back of the mess hall. Before Teyla could react, Sheppard was hot on his heels. Teyla jumped up and and ran to catch up.

She followed the pair to the far back corner of the back room in the mess hall area. "Larry, I don't know if this is such as good idea right now . . . " she began, trying to figure out how she could explain the current situation. Before she could continue however, Sheppard had moved over to the panel controlling the door.

Larry touched the panel, but nothing happened. "See, it's stuck."

Sheppard held his hand about one inch over the panel and closed his eyes. The light in the panel flickered out. He then knelt down in front of the panel and pulled off the cover. "Wow! I didn't know you could do that. I knew you'd know what to do," Larry said in relief. Sheppard looked at several small crystals embedded in the hollow panel. After a moment, he took one out and looked at it closely. Turning it over in his fingers, he found a small splinter of material sticking up slightly on one side. He rubbed it until he was satisfied it was smooth, polished it briefly with the bottom of his shirt, and inserted it carefully back into it's original position. He put the cover back on the panel and stood back up. He then stood with his hand over the panel again and closed his eyes. The light in the panel came back on.

"Now try it," he said to Larry.

Larry obediently tapped on the panel and the door slid open effortlessly. "Gee, thanks Major Sheppard. I knew I could count on you."

Sheppard turned to Teyla. "Did you see? I fixed the door. That was cool!" With that, he turned and headed back to the table. It was then that Teyla realized she had stood back and watched the major play with Ancient technology, the very act that had landed him in the condition he was in. She shuddered, thankful that this had turned out well. She had been so amazed, it hadn't even occurred to her that she should probably stop him. She turned and rushed after him.

Teyla caught up with Sheppard at the table. "John, how did you do that? How did you know how to fix the door?"

He looked confused, as if he wasn't sure what she was asking. "I just knew."

Teyla and Sheppard arrived back at the infirmary to find Beckett and Weir talking. Sheppard's face brightened when he saw Dr. Weir. "Dr. Weir!" he shouted as he ran over and hugged her, almost knocking the two of them down. Beckett was standing next to her, however, and was able to throw his hand out behind her and steady them. He had to do some serious lip-biting to keep from laughing when he saw the shock on Elizabeth's face. When she was sure they weren't going to topple to the ground, she put an arm around Sheppard and hugged him back.

"Dr. Weir," said Teyla, grinning widely, "I think he's glad to see you." Beckett let out a small snicker. He quit as soon as he saw the look Weir flashed him, however.

Sheppard let go of Dr. Weir and stepped back. "I fixed the door! Tell them Teyla. I fixed the door."

Beckett and Weir looked at Teyla expectantly. "Yes, he did. The door to the food closet in the mess hall would not work. Ma . . . John took the panel apart and fixed it. Now it works fine." Beckett and Weir looked worried and glanced over at Sheppard, who had busied himself raising and lowering the head of his bed.

Teyla, reading their thoughts, replied, "He seems fine. It all happened so fast, I did not react in time to stop him. I'm sorry."

"Well," said Beckett. "He doesn't seem to be any worse for wear. But how did he know what to do?"

"I asked him that. He said he just knew."

Beckett crossed his arms and humphed loudly. "This gets weirder by the bloody minute."

Teyla nodded. "I must go now. I have some things I need to tend to. I can come back tomorrow, if you like, and take John for a walk." Weir arched one eyebrow when she heard Teyla call Sheppard by his first name.

"I'll explain later," he said to Weir. To Teyla, he said, "Aye, lass. I'd appreciate it. I'll be needing a break in there somewhere. It's hard to concentrate on analyzing test results while yer babysittin' a . . . Hey! Put that down. Ya can't be playin' with that stuff." Beckett hurried towards Sheppard, who was trying to connect a heart monitor to some machines in the corner. "Yer gonna bloody well electrocute yerself . . . "

Weir and Teyla laughed out loud as Beckett tried to catch Sheppard while he weaved in and out and under the beds. He may be an adult, but his wirey form was just about as agile as that of a child. "You think he'll ever believe us when we tell him how much trouble he was as a child?" asked Weir. "You know, after we bring our John back."

"Not in a millenium," replied Teyla, appreciating the confidence in Dr. Weir's voice.

"I guess I'll go help. See you tomorrow." Weir nodded at Teyla and turned to go rescue Dr. Beckett, who was really beginning to look like he needed rescuing.

An hour later, they had Sheppard back in scrubs and settling down for bed. Weir had sent Beckett to get some rest, assuring him that she would not leave until the major was sound asleep. Beckett had left strict orders with the night staff to keep both eyes on Sheppard so that he would still have an infirmary to return to in the morning. Somewhere along the way, it occurred to Weir that she was tucking the second in command of Atlantis into bed. She found that slightly unsettling.

"Would you stay with me?" She turned to Sheppard and realized his hand was on hers and trembling slightly.

"I'll stay for a while." She smiled.

"Please don't leave me. I don't like this place. I'm afraid if I go to sleep, they might come stick me again. I want to go home."

She looked at him intently. "Where is home, John?"

Sheppard looked confused. " I . . . I don't know . . . but not in here. This place is scary. I think home is . . . my room . . . here in Atlantis." He paused a moment. seeming to focus on something far away. "I belong in Atlantis. This is my home . . . I'm tired." Ending the conversation, he laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. Weir leaned back in the seat to get comfortable. She had no intention of leaving until she was absolutely sure he was asleep.

The frantic screams woke her suddenly and abruptly. She jumped out of her chair, unsure of where she was at first. Then she saw Sheppard, waving his arms around wildly and screaming in pure fear. She took him by the shoulders and shook him gently. "John, wake up. John, it's Elizabeth . . . you're dreaming and you have to wake up."

Sheppard went from screaming to crying hysterically, still not awake. "No. No. No. Please stop. Please go away and stop. Please, I want out of here!."

"John, it's Elizabeth, You're in Atlantis, You're safe."

His eyes partly open, struggling to make sense of what was happening, he suddenly started rubbing his hands. First he rubbed them together and then he rubbed them frantically on his shirt. "Get it off! Please, get it off! Help me get it off."

"What John, what do want get off your hands?" Elizabeth took his hands in hers, trying to hold them still. She couldn't see anything on them.

"There's so much blood. Please get it off me. Too much blood."

Shocked, Elizabeth shook Sheppard harder. "John you have to wake up. There's no blood. You're safe, I promise."

Although still crying and breathing hard, Sheppard seemed to calm down slightly. He stopped shouting and struggling with Elizabeth. She nodded at the duty nurse who had rushed over to help to let her know they were okay. The nurse watched a minute. "Would you like me to call Dr. Beckett?"

"No, it was just a nightmare. He'll be okay in a minute." The nurse looked skeptical, but slowly returned to her post. By this time, Weir had climbed up in the bed beside Sheppard and had her arm around him, his head on her shoulder. He was shaking and crying softly. "Tell me about it, John."

It was so long before he said anything, that she didn't think he was going to open up. Just when she was giving up, he began to speak, his voice low and trembling with fear. "There were fires . . . and lots of smoke . . . small houses . . . or maybe huts are on fire. Lots of people on the ground . . . they're dead . . . so much blood . . . I kept hearing loud noises . . . then there was this girl and she was sitting on the ground by the dead people. I think maybe . . . her mom and dad. She was crying and scared, so I picked her up . . . then we were running . . . " He took in a breath sharply. "Some body is shooting at me. I ran and ran and my arms were tired and then . . . they shot her. I felt her move when the bullet went in her . . . and then the bullet went through her into me." He sat up and pulled his shirt up, touching his skin around the middle of his lower chest/upper abdomen. He began rubbing a small scar. "The bullet was here . . . and there was blood. I fell . . . I couldn't walk any more and it hurt to breathe . . . and there was so much blood . . . her blood . . . and my blood . . . " He put his shirt down and turned his tear stained face to Elizabeth. "I knew we were both going to die. She was afraid, so I held her hand . . . and I laid down with her and hugged her . . . that way, we didn't have to die alone."

He laid his head back on her shoulder and she was aware of his tears soaking into her shirt, making a damp spot. She remembered the incident listed in his file. His helicopter had gone down behind enemy lines. By the time our side caught up to him, he had been shot and was almost dead. She wondered if the little girl had made it or died in his arms. This was a heck of a memory for an adult to live with, much less a child who did not understand it. No wonder Sheppard had trouble sleeping at night.

"It was just a dream. You are here with me in Atlantis and we are both safe." She wiped the tears from his face as he looked up at her, his eyes pleading.

"You won't leave me will you?"

"I'm not going anywhere. Now you go back to sleep and dream something nice this time. Think about doing something fun."

He tried to smile bravely. "I'll try." As he settled down into the bed, she curled up beside him, her arm around his shoulder and his head still on her shoulder. It never occurred to her how odd the situation was. She was just comforting a child . . . a very frightened child.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Question - Am I getting too long-winded with this thing? Sometimes I think it's taken on a life of its own.

Snow'sLuckyCat - Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. The nightmare was from something that happened on earth. I'm sorry I didn't make that clear. I'll try to work on that.

Chapter 5

Teyla looked at Sheppard as they walked down the hall toward the practice room. "Are you sure you want to do this? You look...tired."

"I'm sure," Sheppard said, watching his feet as he walked. "I just had a ...nightmare...last night and it...woke me up. I didn't sleep so good." She had noticed he seemed sluggish and distracted this morning. Now she thought she understood why. "I still want to practice," he said anxiously, looking at Teyla for confirmation they would continue as planned.

"Okay, we will practice then." She smiled at the relief apparent on his face.

A few minutes later, they faced each other, sticks held high, ready to practice. Teyla went slowly at first, unsure of how much of what Sheppard had learned he would be able to remember and execute. The first few rounds, he was hesitant. He seemed to know the moves, but lack the coordination and speed to properly carry them out. In the third round, he faultered a little and Teyla smacked him on the wrist before she could stop herself. He yelped in pain and surprise.

"I am so sorry, John. I did not mean to hurt you."

Sheppard rubbed his wrist, but did not cry. He looked at her in frustration. "I'm okay. I just don't understand...I can do this." He rubbed his wrist once more, a distant expression on his face. Suddenly looking as though he had an answer, he staightened and crossed the sticks just in front of his chest. Closing his eyes, he began breathing slowly and deeply, exhaling through his mouth.

Teyla smiled. She had taught the major this exercise as a way to relax and focus just a few weeks ago. She was pleased to see that he remembered. After several deep breaths, he opened his eyes and smiled. "I am ready to beat you, Teyla Emmagan." He was so serious, she had a hard time not laughing.

The next round was faster and more coordinated, but she was still holding back, giving him time to adjust and work his way up to speed. "Very good," she told him and she meant it.

They were preparing to go again, when Lt. Ford walked in. "Hey!" He gave them a wave. "Dr. Beckett said you guys were down here. Mind if I watch?"

Sheppard smiled broadly as he proudly proclaimed, "You came to watch us! I'm gonna beat Teyla."

Ford smiled and winked at Teyla. "Yeah, in your dreams."

Sheppard frowned. "No, I mean here."

Teyla and Ford twisted their mouths in an attempt not to laugh. After a moment, Teyla and Sheppard went back to their ready position. Each of the next several rounds increased in both speed and intensity. Sheppard was able to hold his ground against Teyla a little longer each time. His concentration level seemed to increase with each round and all talking ceased, so that they proceeded wordlessly from one round to the next. Ford realized he had slowly worked his way to the edge of his seat, becoming more unsure each time of who would come out on top.

John once again assumed the ready position, sweat running down the side of his face. Both he and Teyla were breathing hard, their clothes wet and beginning to cling to them.

"Are you not tired?" asked Teyla. "Perhaps we should rest for a while."

"No, I want to do it again," said Sheppard impatiently. She looked at him a minute, deciding what to do.

"One more time and then we stop. You may not be tired, but I am." She had a feeling it wasn't so much that he wasn't tired, as it was that he wanted to win.

"Okay! And then can we eat?"

"Yes," she said, thankful that there wasn't to be an argument. "Then we'll get cleaned up and eat." Teyla took the ready position.

Ford sat with his mouth open as the exercise unfolded before him. The session was as fast and intense as he had ever seen it and he wondered if they could go on forever. They matched each other perfectly, blow for blow, the sharp rapping of the sticks almost creating a musical beat all its own. And then, suddenly, the flow of movement changed. Sheppard began moving left and then switched to the right with lightning speed. He caught Teyla off guard and, in an instant, she was face up on the mat, Sheppard's stick held horizontally across her throat. Her face registered her obvious suprise.

Sheppard jumped up immediately. "I won!" He reached out his hand to help her up. Slowly, she reached out and took it, getting to her feet.

Ford was already on his feet, staring in amazement. "Oh, wow! That was awesome! You guys should do some type of demonstration for the whole city. I've never seen anything like that."

Teyla looked warily at Sheppard. "That was very good, John. You have improved. I am impressed."

Sheppard just grinned. "That was fun. Can we eat now?"

After much persuasion, Teyla finally convinced Sheppard they needed to shower and change before they ate. Apparently, six year olds are perfectly content to run around in nasty, sweaty clothes, oblivious to how they smell. Teyla, however, was not.

Ford met up with them in the mess hall for lunch. After filling their trays, they found an empty table and began to eat, Sheppard seated between them. The room was full of people, so Teyla was relieved when John expressed no interest in holding her hand. He seemed to be more at ease with moving around Atlantis.

After a few minutes, Teyla began to notice a table behind her getting louder and louder. One voice began to dominate the conversation. It didn't take long to recognize who it was...Kavanagh.

"...such a freak. First the whole mutant gene thing and now, apparently, he's turned into a moron. I heard he now has the mind of a five-year old. He wasn't much use before. Now he's not only worthless, but he's using up precious resources. I don't know why Weir brought him along in the first place. No, actually I do. She probably brought him because he's a pretty flyboy." She heard others at the table laugh.

Without moving her head so as not to alert the major, Teyla slid her eyes over to Ford in order to see if he had heard. The anger in his eyes and the tightly clenched jaw answered her question as their eyes met. They both glanced at Sheppard, praying he hadn't been paying attention. Her heart dropped.

Sheppard had stopped eating mid bite and sat staring sadly at the table. He slowly put his fork down, bowed his head so low it was almost touching his plate, and shoved his hands down in his lap. He looked rather like someone had just punched him in the gut.

"John? John, look at me." She waited until he looked up, his lower lip quivering slightly as he fought back the tears.

"Am I really a...freak?" he asked so softly she almost didn't hear him.

Hot anger boiled up inside her. She looked at Ford and saw him clenching and unclenching his fists. She knew he wanted to give Kavanagh a quick trip to the floor. She shook her head, indicating this was not the time or the place. He clenched his jaw even tighter, but nodded that he understood. She turned her focus back to Sheppard.

"No John, you are NOT a freak. And you are most certainly a valuable member of Atlantis. You have helped the people of Atlantis much more than Dr. Kavanagh ever could or would. He is a selfish man who seeks to make himself look important to others. I assure you, there are more people in Atlantis who like and respect you than will ever like or respect Dr. Kavanagh."

Sheppard looked uncertain. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

Teyla smiled. "I do want you to feel better, but that is not why I am saying this. I know it to be true. Search your heart, John. You said that you remember people and how you felt about them. Do I lie to you."

She could almost see him processing that as he searched her eyes. "No," he finally said. "You would never lie."

"Then believe me. YOU are not the freak here."

His face relaxed a little. He didn't look happy, but he didn't look quite so down. "Thanks, Teyla."

About that time, Kavanagh and two scientists got up from their table and began walking toward the door. They were coming up from behind Teyla. Ford whispered across the table, "They're coming." As they approached, the two scientists noticed the three of them at the table and the look on their faces. Guilt and embarrassment washed over their faces as they realized Kavanagh's remarks had been heard. Ford and Teyla stared at one another, trying to draw strength from one another not to start anything that could further hurt Sheppard.

Kavanagh saw them as he passed their table. "I see you two drew babysitting duty, huh. I bet that's a fun job."

Teyla looked up at him, her eyes narrowed in anger. "I have no idea what you are talking about. We are simply having a meal and, unlike you, not bothering anyone."

"Yeah, right," he said sarcastically. "Hey, _major_." Kavanagh patted Sheppard on the head and laughed. Teyla saw Sheppard's eyes flash in anger. She immediately jumped to her feet, her voice strained with her own rage.

"You will NOT touch him or speak to him or about him again, is that clear?"

"Why, are you his mommy?" Kavanagh sneered. He seemed oblivious to the fact that the rest of the mess hall had gone silent as everyone watched the scene before them...and he was the only one that thought it was funny. It was almost like the whole room held its breath.

Teyla narrowed her eyes. Ford was thinking if Kavanagh was smart, he would just make a run for it. But then, in spite of the D and the R in front of his name, he didn't really seem to have a lot going on upstairs. Ford smiled. This could be good.

"Did your mother never teach you how to treat people with dignity and respect? Major Sheppard has saved you and many others on several occasions. He has been injured while performing his duty helping Atlantis. He deserves everyone here's respect and patience as he tries to recover. It is deplorable that you would treat one of your finest warriers like this. You are a pitiful excuse of a man. Maybe it is you that should not be here. Major Sheppard certainly belongs."

Kavanagh quickly brought his hand up and stuck his finger in Teyla's face. "NO! You are the one who doesn't belong. You're not even from..."

Sheppard was between them in an instant, his eyes blazing as he slapped Kavanagh's hand away. "You leave Teyla alone. She wasn't even doing anything to you. Why can't you just leave us alone? Why are you so...mean?"

Kavanagh reacted by trying to grab Sheppard's hand. Before anyone else could respond, Sheppard snatched Kavanagh by the wrist and jerked his arm out straight. At the same time, he whirled around so that his back was to Kavanagh and drove his elbow into the man's abdomen. As Kavanagh doubled over in pain, Sheppard used this forward momentum to flip him over his outstretched leg onto the floor, knocking the breath out of the scientist. Sheppard was on him in an instant, his forearm pressing against Kavanagh's throat.

"I may be a ...moron...but I can still look after my friends. Are you going to leave us alone?"

Kavanagh was panting heavily as he tried to respond. "You...maniac...gonna...file...report..."

Sheppard pressed down harder. Kavanagh looked panicked. "Okay," he managed to croak. Sheppard eased up a little so Kavanagh could breathe. "Okay, what?"

"Okay...leave...you...alone."

Sheppard smiled. "See. Wasn't that easy? Now we can play nice." He stood to see Ford and Teyla staring at him, their mouth slightly ajar. Sheppard looked down. "I'm in trouble, right?"

And then the clapping started. Slowly, but surely, everyone in the room began to stand and clap. Someone in the back even yelled, "It's about time! Way to go Sheppard!" Sheppard looked around the room, embarrassed to discover everyone looking at him. "I want to go," he said urgently.

Teyla and Ford snapped out of their state of shock. They weren't sure whether to be happy or worried. Kavanagh was angrily trying to get to his feet muttering something about court martial. They quickly decided to cut and run. Grabbing Sheppard by the hand, they quickly made for the door.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Elizabeth Weir entered the infirmary and looked around. "Dr. Beckett?" she inquired of a nurse straightening things in one corner of the room.

"He's been locked up in his office most of the morning," she replied.

Weir made her way to the doctor's office and peaked in. He was sitting behind a desk piled high with medical books, journal ariticles, and test results. He seemed to be digging through one of the piles, looking for something.

"Carson, has there been a storm in here recently or is this supposed to be what some people call organized chaos."

"Oh, there's nothin' organized about this mess. I think just plain chaos is as good a name as any." He looked at her sadly, eyes bloodshot with dark circles underneath.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"Sleep. I'm not sure. I think I vaguely remember doin' that somewhere in my past."

"Do as I say and not as I do? You're always admonishing the rest of us to get some rest and look at you."

He sighed deeply. "I've let him down. I can't make heads nor tails of this thing. I just...don't know what to do."

"Carson, you're doing everything you can...and a little more, I suspect. We're not always going to have the answers."

"I've spent hours looking at the test results from yesterday, from right after the...accident, some old test results from before, and what is considered normal. Other than a few shifts in the EEG and a slight increase in blood flow to certain areas of the brain, I can't find anything. Some of the results aren't unexpected. There is an increase in the wave patterns normally found in children. Overall, there is a decrease in the patterns normally found in adults. There are some irregularities I can't explain though."

"What about the slight increase in blood flow you mentioned?"

"I've got a couple of ideas, but no real way to check them out...at least not that I can think of yet."

"If you get too tired, you won't be able to help anyone, much less Major Sheppard. Sedate yourself or something tonight so that you can get some rest."

"I don't think I'll have to do that. I can hardly keep my eyes open."

"Hey, where is the prodical son, anyway?"

"Teyla took him to work out with sticks. They probably went and got some lunch, too. They should be back...ah! Speak of the devil. I hear them coming now."

Teyla, Ford, and Sheppard walked into the infirmary as Weir and Beckett emerged from his office just in time to hear Sheppard ask Teyla, "Do we have to tell Dr. Weir? I don't want her to be mad."

"Mad about what?" she asked, one eyebrow raised in curiousity. The three of them looked at each other sheepishly, guilty expressions on their faces. "What have you three been up to?"

Teyla got up nerve to speak first. "Dr. Weir, we need to talk to you. There was...an incident...in the mess hall."

"Oh boy. I bet this is going to be good," Weir said with mock joy.

The three looked at each other again. Ford muttered, "Well, that's one way of looking at it."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks again for the reviews. Keep 'em coming! They are fuel to the fire. Some questions will be answered this chapter (I think).

Chapter 6

McKay looked up from his computer screen to see who was daring to enter his lab when he working. Elizabeth Weir strolled in with John Sheppard close behind. "Hi, Dr. McKay," waved Sheppard. McKay watched as the major walked across the room, sat on a stool, and began spinning it around. He then looked at Weir, irritation on his face and in his voice.

"Elizabeth, I'm trying to work. What is he doing here?"

Weir's gaze bore down on him. "What do you mean what is _he_ doing here? He's not contagious, you know. Besides, I think he misses you. I suspect he thinks you're mad at him."

"I'm NOT mad at him. He's just not very condusive to getting productive work done. Of course...I usually didn't get anything constructive done when he was in the lab before, but...Major! Put that down please...thank you." McKay looked up at Weir with his best "see what I mean" expression as he waved one hand in Sheppard's direction. Sheppard was hurriedly putting down the object he had been caught picking up only moments before.

"Rodney, I just think you need to spend some time with him." She paused a moment before adding, "It wasn't your fault, you know."

McKay responded without moving his eyes from the computer screen. "So everyone keeps telling me." He stopped typing and looked at Sheppard, sadness crossing his face. "I just keep thinking...what if..."

"And exactly how many times have you told _him_ not to play the what if game?"

McKay nodded. "Point taken."

Weir sat down on a stool across the table from McKay. "If you've got a minute, I actually have a couple of questions...things I just need clarification on."

McKay sighed deeply. It didn't look like he was going to get any work done anyway. "Shoot."

"Okay, I read over your incident report a couple of times, and there are still some things I don't really understand. I know you said that you and Zelanka scouted out the lab after it was cleared by Sgt. Stackhouse's team. Why is it you couldn't get the doors or lights to work, but they worked immediately for Major Sheppard?"

McKay leaned back in his seat and rubbed one hand absently across his chin. "That's actually a much more complicated question that it sounds. I don't have an exact answer to it either. There are, however, a couple of theories. You know from past experiences that Sheppard can operate just about any Ancient device pretty fast. That's why you brought him and why I continue to use him for a lot of my testing...when I can hold him still long enough, that is." They both glanced at Sheppard, who was now making shapes on the table with debris left over from an experiment, oblivious to their conversation.

"It's okay. There's nothing dangerous over there." Weir nodded in relief.

McKay continued. "You also know that we've come across a few things that no one was ever able to operate but Sheppard, while things like the puddle jumpers can be operated with relative ease by anyone with the gene." Weir nodded. "One theory is that some Ancient devices, particularly things that were operated by a large segment of the population, were designed to be easily operated with just the one gene and a minimum of concentration. Other devices that may have been more complex and only operated by a limited number of ...higher ups, for lack of a better term, used not only the ancient gene, but possibly a number of ...accessory genes to insure proper control."

Weir looked intrigued. "So if Major Sheppard had more of these...accessory genes...he would be able to activate things that no one else can. It would be like they had an extra lock on them."

McKay nodded. "Another thought on the matter is that it all has to do with the level and type of concentration someone is capable of achieving. The deeper and more focused the concentration level, the more control you have over ancient devices. I think both may actually be involved." He glanced at Sheppard, once again spinning on one of the stools. "Although I'm starting to have second thoughts on the concentration issue."

There was a loud crash as Sheppard lost control of the stool and was thrown to floor, dragging the stool down with him. Weir and McKay jumped to their feet, anxiously looking on to see if he was hurt. "Wow, did you see me fly?" Sheppard asked before clasping his hands to his middle and rolling around laughing. Weir glanced at McKay. "I see what you mean."

McKay and Weir sat back down, now that they were sure the major was okay. McKay looked on sadly as Sheppard picked up the stool and stood it back up. Weir watched him intently. "You really miss him, don't you?"

Before McKay realized he'd replied out loud, he said, "Yes, I do." Snapping his head over to look at Weir, he pointed his index finger at her menacingly. "If you ever tell a soul I said that, especially him, I'll deny it with my dying breath."

Weir smiled. "It'll be our little secret."

McKay looked at her in dismay. "You are so going to blackmail me with this, aren't you?"

She just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "We'll see. In the meantime, I still think it would be good for you two to spend some time together. Maybe you can do a better job of keeping him out of trouble than Teyla and Ford did."

McKay looked at her in confusion. "Did I miss something? What did Ford and Teyla do?"

Weir arched her eyebrows. "You mean you haven't heard? They took him to eat lunch in the mess hall earlier today. Apparently there was a confrontation with Dr. Kavanagh and Dr. Kavanagh ended up flat on his back. He's been threatening a court martial all afternoon, but I think I finally convinced him that Major Sheppard was not really responsible for his actions."

McKay looked shocked. "Sheppard put him down?"

"Yes, he did ...and from all the reports I've received so far, he did it quite effectively. Dr. Beckett said he has some bruises, but was otherwise okay. Kavanagh, of course, acts like he was nearly killed."

"Dr. Kavanagh is mean. He is a bad man. I don't like him." Sheppard had apparently heard Kavanagh's name from across the room and was now adding his opinion.

"Well," mused McKay, "if I know Kavanagh, and unfortunately I do, he probably had it coming. The man is the virtual epitome of what not to say in any situation."

Weir looked at Sheppard in mock sternness. "Well, even if that is the case, what did we learn from this situation?" she asked.

Sheppard looked sheepishly at the floor. "I know. I can't hit people just 'cause I don't like what they say." He looked up quickly and rushed in with, "but he was..."

"John! We've already discussed this. I'm not mad at you. I understand that you thought you were defending you and your friends. And I also understand that Dr. Kavanagh said some really mean things. But you can't go around beating people up just because they are mean and vile... and annoying and worthless and...okay, so you get the point."

She smiled at Sheppard and he smiled back, realizing that he wasn't _really_ in trouble. "Okay, I promise."

Zelenka had slipped into the lab almost unnoticed about halfway through the conversation. He had quietly made his way over to stand by McKay. He leaned over and whispered to McKay, "I heard the major got a standing ovation."

"Is that true?" asked McKay. "It figures. The one time I skip lunch, there's entertainment."

Weir pointed her finger at them both and twitched it back and forth. "Don't be encouraging him. I need him to lay low and stay out of trouble until this blows over. I had to talk long and hard to get Kavanagh off my back and I don't need a repeat performance."

McKay held up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. We'll keep him with us and we'll stay out of trouble. How long?"

"Just until our meeting in...what, about two hours? Bring him with you to the meeting and I'll take him from there." Weir closed her eyes and shook her head. "I can't believe I'm leaving John and you together with instructions to stay out of trouble. God help us all."

Two hours later, Elizabeth Weir watched as staff members filed in the conference room for the briefing to update everyone on progress being made to rectify Major Sheppard's current condition. McKay and Zelenka were there with Sheppard in tow. The two men looked exhausted and more than just a little relieved that the two hours were up. Soon, Ford, Teyla, and Dr. Beckett followed. They were seated around the table and ready to begin, with Sheppard spinning in a chair in the corner.

Dr. Weir got everyone's attention to begin the meeting. "Dr. McKay, do you have anything new?"

McKay and Zelenka looked at one another and then at the group around the table. "We have a couple of theories about what may have happened," began McKay. "I just haven't figured out how that helps us undo things just yet. Zelenka and I both noticed a blue light engulf Sheppard from the floor panel. It flickered for a second and then got really bright. One possibility is that the 10,000 year old equipment just simply faltered during the start up process, kind of like a glitch or a short, and then powered forward in too big a rush, overloading the system and resulting in...the major's condition. Why that would have the results it did is beyond me at this point. The other possibility lies within the major himself. Elizabeth, we talked earlier about the possible contribution of concentration to the proper working of Ancient technology. The major had mentioned being tired and having trouble sleeping lately. If his concentration wandered in the middle of the process, that may have caused the flicker, followed by a power surge as he restored his focus. It could be either one or a combination of both or none of the above. If we figure out what caused it, that may or may not give us a clue about how to rectify the situation."

They sat in silent thought for a moment, which accentuated the scraping noise coming from the far corner of the room. Sheppard had taken about three pens apart and was in the process of trying to create something new with them. He suddenly became aware that he was making the only sound in the room and everyone was looking at him. His face flushed a bright red as he mumbled, "I'm sorry."

Dr. Weir stood up. "John, why don't you come with me."

Sheppard looked mortified. "I...I said I was sorry."

"It's okay. You're not in trouble. I just think this will be very boring for you. Maybe you could help Peter."

Sheppard's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Come with me." She took him by the hand and led him out to the control room. "Peter?"

Peter Grodin was lying on the floor, the upper part of his body hidden under a dark control panel in the corner of the room. At the sound of his name, he sat up suddenly, rapping his head on the underside of the panel.

Sheppard and Weir both made a face and silently mouthed the word _Ouch. _A few seconds later, Peter ducked his head sideways, one hand on his forehead, and crawled out from under the console.

"I am so sorry, Peter. I had no idea you were under there. Speaking of which, what are you doing under there?"

Peter stood, still rubbing his head. "It's all right. We have never been able to get that control system on line, so I was trying to figure out what the problem is. Did you need something?"

"Yes, actually I did. John is really bored...and...moving around a lot...and..." Peter nodded his understanding. "Anyway, I was wondereing if he could hang out here and help you so we could finish our meeting?" She looked at him with pleading eyes, not sure what to do if he refused. But Peter was always game to help.

"Okay. He can stay with me."

Seeing the hesitation and discomfort in his eyes, she hurried to reassure him. "We won't be long, I promise. Just keep him from...going through the gate or ...tearing much up. And thank you!" Weir made her getaway quick, afraid Peter would change his mind.

Peter glanced at Sheppard to discover him looking on with wide eyes full of excitement. Peter had heard about what happened to the major, but had not really spoken to him since the event. He was a little nervous and not sure how to act.

"Dr. Weir said I could help you. What are you doing?"

Peter pointed to the control console he had been working on. "I'm trying to get that control panel to work. Why don't I find you a chair and you can sit and watch. I think we have a chair that spins around. That might be fun."

Sheppard nodded. "I like those. They're cool." Peter turned and began looking for a chair for the major.

Sheppard immediately walked over to the panel and looked at it. He closed his eyes a minute, as if deep in thought. When he opened them again, he smiled. "I can fix this." He kneeled beside the console and removed an almost invisible cover over a compartment in the side. Several crystals of different sizes and colors were embedded in sockets inside. Peter returned to find Sheppard taking a crystal out.

"Wait, Major, what are you doing? You shouldn't be touching that. You'll get...how did you know that panel was there? I've been working on this thing for hours and I couldn't find the crystals." Peter knelt beside Sheppard, curious about what the major was doing.

"It's okay. I know what I'm doing. I know how to fix it." He turned back to the crystals and began to take them out, examine them, polish them, and put them back one at a time. When he had checked them all, he laid the last one on the floor. Looking at Peter, he said, "This one can't go back in yet."

Peter opened the door to the conference room, interrupting Weir. "I'm sorry Dr. Weir, but you have **got** to see this. You won't believe it." Peter turned and walked away quickly as they all got up and followed.

They arrived back in the control room behind Peter to see Sheppard working over a dark console in the back corner. They noted an open panel on the side and a crystal on the ground. Weir recognizedthe consoleas the one Peter had been under earlier.Frowning with worry,she asked, "What is he doing? Should he be working on that?"

"I know it's strange, but I really think he knows what he's doing," Peter said.

"I can fix it", said Sheppard.

McKay stepped up to stand protectively beside Sheppard. "John," he said, putting his hand on Sheppard's arm. "Maybe you shouldn't." Sheppard just looked at McKay and smiled. "It's okay, Dr. McKay. I can fix it." He went back to work, checking and rearranging tiles in the grooves on the top of the console.

"John, do you know what this machine does?" asked Weir.

"Sure. It monitors and controls the power grids. You can turn them on or off, or if you need to move more power to one section of the city, you can recon...reco..." He paused and frowned, not able to say what he wanted.

"Reconfigure?" offered McKay.

Sheppard's expression brightened. "Yeah! You can recon...you can do that too."

McKay's expression changed from worried to excited in an instant. "That's it. We've always known there must be a place that controls and monitors the way the power grids are set up in the city. If what he says is true, we can more effectively monitor for energy peaks and adjust for them. If we need more energy in one section of the city, we can actually divert power from another section that doesn't need as much. This is...a big deal. This will solve a lot of our problems."

McKay turned to Sheppard. "You're sure you know what you're doing?"

"I know. Someone has messed up these flat things. I have to put them all back right."

Peter and Rodney looked sheepishly at one another, remembering their hours of trying all sorts of different arrangements in an effort to get the console to work. Finally, Sheppard seemed happy with the arrangement of tiles. Once again, he knelt beside the console. He replaced the one remaining crystal and closed the panel, causing it to become almost invisible once again. He stood up and proudly proclaimed he was ready to make it work. They were all afraid for him to try, but at the same time mesmerized by his confidence.

Sheppard stood in front of the panel, closed his eyes, and put both his hands on the console. Nothing happened at first, and McKay noticed his expression change as he concentrated harder. Slowly, the lights on the panel began to come on as the control console came on line. After a minute, Sheppard opened his eyes and stepped back from the panel. "See, I told you I could fix it."

McKay stepped up to the console, unable to hide his excitement. "Amazing."

Beckett was watching Sheppard, the doctor in him remembering Sheppard's lifeless form after the last incident. He thought Sheppard looked a little pale. Sheppard raised his hand to wipe the bead of sweat from his brow and Beckett noticed his hand was shaking. "John are you okay?" Weir, who had also been watching Sheppard, took a step toward him. Sheppard began taking a step towards her, but his knees buckled and he began a rapid descent towards the floor. Weir and Beckett each grabbed an arm and lowered him to the ground. His eyes fluttered a moment, as if he were struggling to remain conscious, but he lost the battle and lay perfectly still. Beckett looked at Weir, worry on both of their faces.

"He's got a pulse, but it's rapid and weak. We need to get a medical team here on the double and get him to the infirmary." Here we go again, he thought.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks again you guys! You are way too nice (but I really love it!)! On with our story...

Chapter 7

Weir, McKay, Ford, and Teyla stood in the outer area of the infirmary, discussing the events that had just taken place in the control room. The strain of worry was apparent on everyone's face. It wasn't long before Beckett joined them.

"Well?" said Weir. "How is he?"

Beckett's smile took everyone's tension down a notch. "He'll be fine. He's already regained consciousness. His pulse and blood pressure are a wee bit high and, once again, his EEG patterns are very strange. I think I'll keep him here and monitored for a while...just as a precaution."

"That's good," sighed Weir, echoing the thoughts of the whole group. "Can we see him?"

Beckett considered the request for a moment before answering. "Aye, but only for a few minutes. I'm not sure exactly what he did back in the control room, but it really drained him. He's exhausted and he needs rest."

At that, he turned and led the way to Sheppard's bed. They were a little suprised at how pale he looked and how still he was. They hadn't seen him that still since he had regained consciousness. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor beside the bed drew their attention to the fact that he was hooked up to several monitors. Beckett really was keeping a close watch on him. As the group approached, they noticed he looked like he was asleep. At the sound of their approach, however, he opened his eyes and smiled weakly.

Weir took his hand in hers and smiled back at him. "You gave us quite a scare back there, but Carson says you'll be okay once you get some rest."

"I'm sorry," he said softly, almost like talking took too much energy. "Just...so...tired." His eyelids slowly closed, even though he seemed to fight it every step of the way.

McKay looked at Beckett, worrry lining his expression. "Are you sure he's okay?"

Beckett sighed. "I haven't been sure of anythin' since this whole mess began."

Sheppard slept for the next eighteen hours. It was a deep, almost motionless sleep that disturbed the medical staff more that just a little. Beckett checked the monitors often, usually scratching his head in confusion. Dr. Weir and members of Sheppard's team dropped in and out constantly to check on his condition. McKay finally took up residence next to his bed, laptop in hand. The staff heard him periodically direct comments or questions to the sleeping man. They were almost as worried about McKay as they were about Sheppard. So when the major finally woke up, no one was sure who was more relieved.

Two hours after Sheppard woke up, Weir finally just told everyone to leave her alone and headed for the infirmary. She spotted Dr. Beckett on her way to the major's bed, so she stopped to get an update. He looked up from the chart he was working on. "Elizabeth, I rather expected to see you a bit sooner."

"I thought I'd be here sooner. It seems everyone in the city had a crisis that had to be tended to right this minute." She glanced over towards Sheppard's bed to see him and Rodney hunched over the laptop. Rodney's chair was pulled up so close to the bed, he was practically sitting half on the bed and half in the chair.

She watched as Sheppard pointed to the computer screen and said something. Rodney, looking like a light bulb just turned on in his head, slapped himself in the forehead and rolled his eyes. She heard him exclaim, "Of course! I should have seen that weeks ago." He then began chattering in true Rodney McKay style, about a hundred miles a minute.

Weir looked at Beckett, not quite able to close her mouth. "Tell me I don't see what I think I see."

Beckett just shrugged his shoulders. "They've been at it almost since the major woke up. He's already made adjustments to two of Rodney's formulas and now they're working on a third. I don't have half a clue what they're talkin' about. I feel sort of like I wandered into a bloody math convention."

"Is he..."

"He's not back to...normal, if that's what you're askin'." Weir nodded that that was indeed what she had been asking. "Ya know, I started to runRodney out of here a little while ago. I was afraid the major would overdo it and wear himself out again. But then I noticed that all his vitals are slowly returning to normal. Whatever he and Rodney are doing is relaxing him and letting everything settle back down."

"Does this make any sense to you yet?"

"No, lass, but we keep picking up more pieces of the puzzle. I think if we just keep collectin' those pieces, they'll eventually show us an answer. At least, that's what I keep tellin' myself."

She watched a few more minutes as the two men continued their work. McKay said something that made Sheppard laugh and clap his hands, reminding her that he still had the mind of a child.

By the next day, Sheppard was back to normal...well, six year old normal. Blood pressure and heart rate were good. The EEG was pretty much back to the way it had been, pesky odd peaks and all. Sheppard had regained most of his strength and was subsequently driving the staff crazy. Weir came to rescue them around noon.

Beckett met her at the door, his labcoat twisted partially around him and his hair standing on end. "Please tell me you are taking him with you," he pleaded. She heard the sound of metal objects clattering to the floor on the other side of the room. Beckett folded his hands together as if praying. "Please?"

Weir grinned impishly. "What's it worth to you?"

Beckett glanced back as the infirmary was filled with the sound of more clanking metal, in addition to that of breaking glass. "Name your price."

Weir coninued to grin. "We'll discuss terms later." She headed back to the area where the crashing had come from. "John? It's Dr. Weir. How would you like to get out of here for a while?"

A few minutes later, Weir and Sheppard were walking down the hall. Sheppard was running his right hand up and down the wall as they walked and making swishing noises. He didn't notice when Weir stopped and he almost ran into her. "What are we doing?" he asked. She watched him intently until realization moved across his face. He ran his hand over the panel on the wall and watched the door to his quarters slide open. He slowly entered, followed by Weir.

He stood just inside the door. He hadn't been here in a long time and the room felt...empty...abandoned. Suddenly he felt very lonely. "Why are we here?"

Weir put her hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump. "I was talking to Dr. Beckett. We can't really have you living in the infirmary on a...long term basis. We thought you might like to go back to your quarters...starting tonight, if you think you're ready."

He stood there silently for several minutes, looking very much like a lost child. "It's not really...my...quarters." He walked over to the small desk and picked up a picture of himself and two army buddies standing in front of a helicopter. "This room belongs to Major Sheppard. That's not me...not any more." He wiped his hand across his face, his back to her so she couldn't see him wipe away the tears. Weir bit down hard on her lower lip, fighting back her own tears. At that moment she would have given absolutely anything to help him.

Suddenly, he put the picture down and turned to face her. "I guess if you want me to stay here, I could. I won't be afraid and I'll be good." He was trying to please her and she knew it.

"I don't want you to stay here until you feel you are ready. And if you would rather have different quarters, I'm sure we could arrange it. I don't want you to be uncomfortable here."

"No, I'm good."

The statement and the way he said it almost sent her reeling. She had heard those words so many times before. She reached out and touched the wall to steady herself.

"Dr. Weir, are you okay?"

"Yes,... I'm fine. Let's go see Dr. McKay. He wanted you to come help him in the lab today."

"Really? He **wants **me to help? Cool!"

Weir nodded and they left the room, Sheppard's mood having changed completely from just a few moments before. She wished her mood could lighten that quickly.

The next two days were relatively uneventful. Weir established a rotation schedule of who was responsible for Sheppard and when. The person with the last shift each day would stay in his quarters until he was asleep. The first person each morning would pick him up for breakfast. Weir knew the arrangement wouldn't work forever, but it would do for a while...as least until they figured out how permanent the situation would be.

Weir had been the one to tuck him in on his first night alone. After showing him how to work the radio headset (a lot of which he seemed to remember), she tested him by having him call her. He thought it was funny to call someone on the radio who was standing three feet in front of him. She made him promise to call her if he was afraid or had a nightmare. Her thoughts kept going back to the night she held him in the infirmary. She prayed he would never have another night like that again.

All in all, the past two nights had gone off without a hitch, so Weir was beginning to relax. They talked as they walked down the hall after lunch, once again heading for McKay's lab.

"So, what are you and Dr. McKay working on today?"

"Not sure." answered Sheppard.

"I noticed you have been helping with some formulas and calculations. Do you like that kind of thing?"

Sheppard smiled broadly. "I love math. It's easy. Well, some of Dr. McKay's problems aren't very easy. You have to think about it to get the right answer, but I like that. His stuff is really cool."

With that last statement, they arrived at the lab. When McKay saw them enter, he motioned for them to come over to the table where he sat working on the computer. As soon as Sheppard was close, he turned the laptop and around and proclaimed, "Look, it worked. I plugged it in just where you suggested and it worked like a charm."

"All right!" said Sheppard as he and McKay slapped their hands together in a high five.

Weir looked horrified. "Oh, I did not just see that. This is getting scary!"

McKay looked offended. "I think we make a good team."

"It's just so...weird to see you two working together instead of...seeing who can come up with the best insults."

McKay looked a little distant for a moment, but then it passed. "Yeah, I know. But there are certain aspects of our current situation that I have found rather... intriguing. I'm trying to get all my formulas and calculations fixed before we get him back to normal. I have to admit, I've rather liked having the help."

Weir got up and headed for the door. "Ford will get him later this afternoon. Rodney?"

"Yeah?"

"You realize that none of that math stuff on your computer has anything directly to do with ancient technology."

McKay looked at her in confusion. "What are you trying to say?"

"Food for thought, Rodney. Just giving you food for thought."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks once again for all the nice reviews. I promise I am trying to wind this thing down. It won't be long (I hope). In places where I've mentioned EEG, I am referring to electroencephalogram, which measures brain waves (I had some questions).

Chapter 8

McKay thought about what Weir had said for several minutes. He looked at Sheppard, poking at objects on the table. Surely she didn't think...No,it couldn't be...could it? The only way to find out for sure was to return Sheppard to normal, or at least what passed for normal with him. He had work to do.

"Can I play with this?" came the question from across the room.

McKay looked up to see Sheppard with a small ancient device they had recently discovered. McKay jumped up and yelled, "No! Put that down, right NOW!"

Sheppard was so startled, he dropped the object immediately. "I'm sorry," he said, his face clouded in fear and resentment.

McKay took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Look, John, I didn't mean to yell. You scared me. You don't need to touch those things. They are from the Ancients and I'm afraid they could hurt you."

John looked relieved that McKay wasn't mad. "Oh. It's okay. These won't hurt. They're too little. The only ones that hurt are the big ones with the quantae."

McKay looked confused. "The what?"

"The big ones with the quantae."

"I don't know that word...quan..tae. What is that?"

Sheppard looked at McKay like he must be stupid. "It's ...quantae...you know..."

McKay thought back to his conversation with Weir. "Quantae...is that like a ...lock?"

Sheppard tilted his head slightly to the right and then to the left, obviously considering the suggestion. "Yeah...I guess it's kind of like a lock. Only some people can turn on things with a quantae. You really have to think hard. It makes my head hurt."

"Yes!" McKay whispered with enthusiasm. He had been right. He was one step closer to figuring this thing out. He went to work with a fury, putting this new piece of information in his database.

Sheppard managed to putter around the lab, basically staying out of trouble for about an hour. Then he began to work on McKay's nerves. "What is this?" he asked, picking up an instrument from the table.

McKay glanced up. "It detects energy readings and helps identify them."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you need to detect energy readings?"

"Well, it can tell us if there is likely to be a civilization and it helps us determine if there might be a ZPM or other power supply. Then we can..." McKay sighed. "We just need to know."

A few minutes passed in relative silence. "What are these?"

McKay looked up again, anger starting to build and causing him to grit his teeth together. "What?" he asked sharply.

Sheppard didn't notice the tone. He was rubbing his fingers over a small pile of gravel-sized stones. "These little rocks. Why do you have rocks in here?"

McKay rubbed his forehead. He could feel a headache creeping through his temples and behind his eyeballs. This could be a long afternoon. He decided right then and there that he should probably never have children. It was ashamed not to pass on his genius genetic line...what he could do with the right woman...but he would never have the patience. "They are mineral samples from PX3-449."

"What's a mineral?"

"It's the stuff the rocks are made of." He could feel the tension building in his neck and shoulders.

"Why do you want to know what the rocks are made of?"

"We just do. Could you not ask so many questions? I'm trying to work here." McKay snapped.

Sheppard pouted and whined, "Can I play with them?"

"YES! If you will sit down and shut up, by all means play with them!" McKay roared.

The force of his yelling caught Sheppard off guard, causing him to flinch. He knocked into a tray of devices and they went skittering to the floor. One of the devices broke into several small pieces. Sheppard looked terrified. "Oh no! I'm...sorry. I'm sorry," he said in a panic. He backed away from the mess on the floor. Please...don't ...be...mad."

"What have you done? You idiot! Why can't you just leave stuff alone?" He looked up in time to see Sheppard run from the room. He stood shaking in anger for a minute, slowly aware of just how much he'd lost control. Then his words began to play back in his head and his face sank. _My God, what have I done?_ He ran out of the lab, praying he could find Sheppard.

He wandered down corridors, looking for Sheppard for almost twenty minutes. If he didn't find him soon, he'd have to contact Weir and tell her what had happened. Where could Sheppard be? He stopped for a minute to think and realized he was almost to Sheppard's quarters. Might as well check there before admitting defeat.

McKay knocked on Sheppard's door. "John, are you in there?" There was no answer, but he distinctly heard the sound of movement in the room. He opened the door and slowly walked in. The room was dark, but he heard the sound of muffled sobs. As his eyes adjusted to the dark interior of the room, he spotted Sheppard sitting in the far corner, his knees pulled up to his chin. The major's arms were wrapped around his legs, holding them tightly to his body. He took in a shuddering breath as he tried to stop crying.

McKay eased over toward Sheppard, wanting desperately to comfort him. "John...I am so sorry..."

"Go away!"

McKay winced. "Look, I know I deserved that. I guess I'm just tired and cranky today. You know how I get when I'm tired...I...really didn't...I mean I...didn't mean to yell so much." McKay wished he could go back in time and take back everything he had said, but he knew he couldn't. Yeah...definitely no kids...they would undoubtedly be scarred for life.

"I said go away. Just leave me alone." Sheppard rubbed the tears from his face. "No one wants me here. Everyone wants the old John back...Dr. Kavanagh is right...I shouldn't be here cause I'm...worthless."

"You will NOT say that! I don't ever want to hear that come out of your mouth again. You most certainly are not worthless and I will not listen to you or anyone else say that you are. John...can't you tell why we have all been so upset...It's because we love you. We are like a family...no...That's not right. We ARE a family. We take care of each other. We're just worried about you."

Sheppard wiped his hand across his face again, looking uncertain. "Really? A family?"

McKay smiled. "You better believe it!"

John looked thoughtful for a minute. "I know you miss the old John. I think I do too. There's so many things I remember part of, but I don't understand. I want to understand. I feel like...part of me is missing. Please fix me. I don't want to do this any more. Please...just fix me." He bowed his head to his knees and began to softly cry again. McKay sat down beside John and put his arm around him. He had no idea how his friend must be suffering, but he knew he had to somehow find a way to help him. They sat there for several minutes.

"How about a walk?"

Sheppard looked up in suprise. "A walk?"

"Yeah, you know, to clear our head and help us think. I think we've been cooped up in labs and infirmaries so long, we've got cobwebs in our brain. Let's go take a walk and smell the ocean."

"Will smelling the ocean really help us think better?"

McKay nodded. "You bet. After our walk, we'll have clear heads. Then we can go back to the lab and solve this problem"

Sheppard tried to smile. He wasn't buying it, but he was trying to put on a brave front.

They walked along an outside walkway for several minutes without speaking. McKay didn't know what to say and Sheppard didn't seem to want to talk. They were getting into uninhabited areas of the city. McKay paused and put his arms on the rail of the balcony, watching the waves below. A slight breeze ruffled their hair as Sheppard joined him. For just an instant, it was almost like things were back to normal. McKay was about to snap out with a sarcastic remark, when Sheppard spoke.

"I know where we are."

"Atlantis, the last time I checked." McKay winced, uncertain how Sheppard would respond. He looked around to find Sheppard looking toward the buildings and not the ocean. "What are you looking at?"

"I know where we are...I've got to show you something...it's really cool." Sheppard opened the nearest door and ran down the corridor. It took McKay a minute to react and even then he had a hard time keeping up. He was panting and out of breath when he saw Sheppard disappear into a room. He paused a moment to catch his breath. What was that maniac doing, trying to kill him?

McKay staggered to the door and stepped in. "O...kay...what...is...so...import..." His jaw dropped as he looked up to see Sheppard frantically working on a wall console, lights coming on as he touched tiles and buttons. There was a large console next to it that appeared to have already been activated. McKay panicked.

"NO! STOP! John, get away from there! You're going to kill yourself." He yelled all the way across the room and then grabbed Sheppard by the arm and pulled him away from the console.

"Let me go. I can fix it. I'm not worthless cause I can fix them. I can help!" He pushed McKay with more force than he probably had intended. He was so intent on activating the control panels that he didn't see McKay stumble backwards and trip over debris in the floor. Unable to catch himself in time, McKay's head made a thud as it connected with the floor. A fireworks explosion went off in his head.

It was several minutes before McKay's head began to clear. He kept waiting on the fog to roll out so he could see where he was. He moaned as he tried to raise up and the throbbing in his head multiplied exponentially. He finally got his eyes open in time to see Sheppard finishing his fourth control panel. It all came back to him in a rush. He leaped to his feet and then swayed back and forth, deciding that may not have been the best move. By the time he reached Sheppard, he was a little more steady on his feet.

He grabbed Sheppard by the arms and spun him around. "Just what do you think you are doing? You have to stop this now."

Sheppard just looked at him, his eyes vacant and glassy.

"Oh no. Don't you do this to me. John, you can't do this to me again! JOHN!" Sheppard's legs gave way and he pitched forward. McKay reacted by catching John and putting him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He lifted him up and headed toward the infirmary, calling Beckett on the way.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Yes, it's true. This is the final chapter. I'm sorry I drug this out so long - I just got caught up in the whole thing. I kept thinking I needed this stuff in there to lay the foundation for a conclusion that might halfway make sense and I guess I got a little carried away. Anyway, it wasn't intentional and I apologize to those of you who got tired. I'll try to be more succinct in the future. My excuse is that I'm still relatively new to this and don't actually know what I'm doing (that's my story and I'm sticking to it).

Thanks so much for all the reviews and thoughts and for sticking with it so long. You guys always make my day!

Chapter 9

Beckett and a medical team met McKay about halfway to the infirmary. McKay wasn't really sure if the medical personnel took Sheppard from him or if he just kind of dropped him in their direction. Covered with sweat, he bent over with his hands on his knees as he panted heavily. Beckett quickly turned and asked if he was okay, to which he waved his hand and replied, "Go!" He watched as they rounded the corner a few seconds later.

McKay arrived at the infirmary about the same time as Elizabeth Weir. She immediately noticed his flushed face and heavy breathing. "Rodney, are you okay? Come sit down." He decided to take her up on the sit down part before he fell down. He was still a little dizzy and unsteady from the bump on the head. The next thing he knew, there was a cup of water in front of his face.

"Drink this," she ordered. He hadn't even seen her leave. He drank the whole cup of cool water, which helped quench the desert that was his throat. After he had a chance to catch his breath, she asked the question he dreaded.

"What happened?" And he told her. Every detail. He hung his head in shame, waiting for the scolding. He shouldn't have lost his temper and yelled. He shouldn't have let John get away. He should have stopped him from handling the devices. Once again, this was his fault. When Elizabeth said nothing, he looked up at her.

"A six year old can be quite a handful - especially in the body of an adult. It sounds like you did everything you could. I guess it's up to Carson now."

"No, Elizabeth, I didn't do everything I could. I let him down...yet again. I seem to have gotten off into some kind of rut in that area."

Elizabeth started to say something else, but Beckett came out and headed in their direction. All thoughts turned to Sheppard's condition. Beckett didn't look too happy.

"Carson?" inquired Weir.

"Well, if I thought I was confused before, now I'm really at a loss. We have some of the same effects as before - slightly elevated pulse and blood pressure, as well as strange brain wave activity on the EEG. He's not really unconscious this time. His eyes are open, but he's unresponsive. He's...catatonic."

Weir and McKay looked at one another and then back at Beckett, not sure if this was better or worse than being unconscious. Weir finally spoke. "How long do you think it will last?"

Beckett frowned and was strangely silent for several minutes. McKay felt his fear sink like a cold, hard ball of metal into his gut. This was not good. "First you have to understand that I have no experience with anythin' like this and this is definitely not my specialty area. Everythin' I say is conjecture. Without trying to get into too much detail, the major has had very irregular brain wave patterns from the very beginnin' of this. While there has been a lot of fluctuation, some things have remained constant. There has been an increase in patterns associated with a child and a decrease in patterns typically associated with an adult. There have also been some strange peaks that have consistantly grown stronger with each event."

McKay was growing impatient. "And all this means what? Is there a point to this story?"

Beckett nodded, unruffled. "There's two points, actually. The odd peaks are now at an all time high and have been joined by some other anomalies. I have no idea what this means in terms of how long the catatonic state will last, but I'm a little afraid it's not good. My other point is...based on the way the wave patterns are becoming more established..."

It dawned on McKay what Beckett was trying to say. "He's going to stay that way, isn't he? It's too late to fix him."

Beckett held up his hand. "That's not exactly what I'm sayin'. But I think there is a limit as to how long he can have the mind of a child before those patterns are imprinted and replace the original ones. And I think our time is almost out. If we don't figure this out soon, then Major Sheppard will have the mind of a six year old for the rest of his life,...if he comes out of the catatonic state."

McKay looked panicked. He turned to race out of the room so suddenly that he made himself dizzy. Beckett caught him as he swayed and almost fell. "Rodney, sit down." Beckett shoved him in the chair.

"I've got to go. I've got to figure this out. Let me go."

Beckett just shook his head. He gently ran his hand along the back of McKay's head. "How did you get that bump?"

McKay sighed heavily, knowing he wasn't getting out of this. "I bumped my head on the floor when I was trying to stop John. I'm okay, it's just a little bump."

"Were you unconscious?"

McKay hesitated. "Unconscious is such a strong word. More like a little dazed for a few seconds."

Beckett stood and pointed inside the infirmary. "Observation. You're here for the night."

McKay jumped up, eyes blazing. "You just told me my best friend is going to be a child forever unless I solve the mystery of the ages and do it soon. Now you want me lounge around in the infirmary. Carson, if you think..."

"Settle down or I'll have you sedated. If you come along quietly and cooperate, I'll have someone fetch your laptop and whatever else you need. You can work up here and I can keep an eye on ya."

McKay calmed down somewhat. "Well, I guess I could live with that."

Weir smiled. "Rodney, you go get settled. I'll get your laptop."

Beckett walked over to the bed where Rodney sat working and set a cup of coffee on the table beside the bed. McKay glanced at it. "Thanks."

"Any luck?"

McKay rubbed his eyes and then took a sip of the coffee. "No, not yet." He looked across the infirmary at the still figure in another bed. The monitors were beeping and his eyes were open, but there was no movement. "That's just spooky. The lights are on, but nobody's home." Beckett sadly followed his gaze.

McKay looked back at the computer screen before him and punched a couple of buttons. He frowned, squinting in confusion. "What is this?" He punched a couple more buttons. "Sheppard, what have you been putting on here? This isn't my..."

"What is it?" Beckett asked, looking over the scientist's shoulder as if he would understand it. It looked like jibberish.

Suddenly McKay sat straight up. "Oh my God, this is it. Carson, this is it! It's been right here!"

McKay began trying to get out of bed, but was so excited, he got his feet tangled in the sheets and would have fallen out of bed if Beckett hadn't caught him. "Easy, lad. What's going on? Just settle down. You're not goin' anywhere til you explain this to me."

McKay took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Okay, let me see if I can get this to make sense. The technology in that room is kind of protected by a lock. You have to have more than the ancient gene. You have to be more genetically like the Ancients than just that one gene. You also have to be able to pour your concentration into activating it. I think the contol panel that started this whole thing was sort of a ...lock to the other consoles in the room as well as an instruction manual to all of it. It was supposed to slowly download the instructions into the user while allowing them to turn on the devices. I think either John's concentration wavered or there was a power glitch or both, and that caused the download process to briefly stop, and then surge forward quickly. I think that set off a series of...electrical shorts, if you will, in John's brain. The information was compressed and forced into areas too quickly. The overload caused John's brain to try and compensate by going back to a simpler operating system...that of a child."

"But the information about ancient devices is in his brain, so sometimes he can access it and use it to...fix things."

McKay nodded. "John's lifetime of memories is still there, but it has also been kind of compressed and crammed into available space. He can activate some of it, but probably has little control over which part he remembers. So he has partial memories that he's looking at through the eyes of a child. He's trying to remember and process ancient information in bits and pieces, as well."

Beckett whistled softly. "It's wonder he hasn't had a meltdown before now. Did you say you found an answer?"

McKay got excited again. "Yes! I think I have. It looks like there is a ...undo button...on this thing."

Beckett looked confused. "An undo button?"

"Yeah! Like on a computer. It was probably a protective measure in case they decided they didn't trust someone to know how to turn on and operate all of Atlantis's systems. They could remove the information from them. I think if we remove the information, John may...reset."

"John left all this on your computer?"

"No, don't be ridiculous, Carson. I put all this together from the writings on the computer, talking to John, and past research we'd already done and logged. John left a schematic on how to hook it up to undo. I just didn't realize what this was until now."

"That's the weird peaks in his EEG. It must be the ancient information. It wasn't downloaded properly, so he was having trouble accessing it. Then when he did, it sort of...overloaded his brain."

"Right!. Carson, we've got to get him back to that lab and get him straightened out while there's still time."

"Wait, I thought you said he had to concentrate. How are we going to get him to do that?"

McKay smiled. "Don't have to. Unloading doesn't require concentration. Think about it, Carson. If the Ancients had to make someone they didn't trust do this, they would have to design it to work passively."

"Okay, but we'll have to clear it with Weir. And I want to be there with a full medical team in case he reacts like he did before. Will this work since the information wasn't loaded properly in the first place."

McKay looked unsure. "I hope so."

Beckett hurried off to make the arrangements. McKay got up and walked over to John's bed. He reached down and put his hand on the still form's shoulder. "We're going to fix you, John. Just hold on a little while longer."

A few hours later, everything was ready. John was propped up in a wheelchair. Beckett was there with a medical team and just about every monitor he could drag down there. Ford, Teyla, and Weir had been briefed and were there for moral support. McKay and Zelenka had several computers and pieces of equipment hooked up to the control console. "We're ready," McKay announced. Suddenly, they all looked uncertain.

Weir looked at McKay. "Rodney, you have a go."

Beckett rolled the wheelchair over to the console. The floor panel underneath immediatly lit up. McKay walked over and picked up John's hands. "I hope this works," he whispered. He gently laid Sheppard's hands in the depressions on the console. He stepped back and punched a few keys on the laptop. A few seconds later, a blue light rose up slowly to engulf Sheppard, remained there several seconds, and then withdrew back into the floor panel. As soon as the light disappeared, Beckett moved forward to the wheelchair. John had slumped forward on the panel. Beckett and a nurse pulled the wheelchair back from the console and eased John out onto the floor. His eyes were no longer open. Everyone in the room held their breath as Beckett checked for a pulse.

"I've got a pulse...and it's fairly strong." Beckett and his team checked blood pressure, temperature, and breathing. Beckett, visibly relieved, reported that everything was pretty well normal. Even that didn't prepare them for what happened next. Sheppard stirred and slowly opened his eyes. McKay got right down in his face, trying to see if Sheppard's eyes were focused.

"McKay, get out of my face! What are trying to do, kiss me? I don't _even_ want to think about that!"

McKay jumped up and back, suprise on his face.

Sheppard rubbed his head with one hand. "Crap! What a headache." He looked around to see Beckett and a medical team, along with several pieces of monitoring equipment around him on the floor. The only thing scarier that waking up surrounded by medical equipment was waking up surrounded by medical equipment while lying on the floor. This was just weird.

"Ah, guys, what the heck happened and why am I on the floor?" It was then that he noticed that everyone in the room was grinning at him. "I'm guessing I missed the punchline on this one."

McKay put his hand on Sheppard's shoulder. "Welcome back, John."

Welcome back? Where had he gone? And why was McKay calling him John. "Did I go somewhere?"

"Do you remember anythin' after you and Rodney came to this lab, lad?" asked Beckett.

Sheppard thought a minute. His head still hurt, so he wasn't anxious to push it. "You know, I do kind of feel like I had some weird dreams...bunch of really big, scary needles...beating Teyla at sticks for once...something about an ancient device..." He suddenly tried to sit up. Beckett pushed him back down.

"Just lay still lad. You've had quite a shock. It's going to take a few days to get your strength back."

Sheppard looked frantically at McKay. "It'll work now. I know what to do. We can do it right this time." He started trying to get up again. Beckett was still pushing him down.

"Son, if ya don't lay still, I'll have to sedate you."

Sheppard continued to plead with McKay. "Tell them McKay. We can do this. I can download the information the right way and I can help unlock Atlantis. I can...remember that part. I know what to do."

Beckett looked at McKay to see if Sheppard was delirious or not. McKay shook his head. "Not right now. We can do it later. The first time almost killed you and...you have no idea what it's been like the last several days. I can't risk doing that to you again."

Sheppard's eyes burned with a strange intensity. "McKay...I promise you I can do this...I can...fix it..."

McKay's head snapped up. The two men stared at each other in the silent room. Not taking his eyes off Sheppard, McKay reached out and moved Beckett's hand off Sheppard's chest. "Let him do it. He knows what he's doing."

Beckett looked at Weir. She hesitated a minute and then nodded. Beckett and McKay helped Sheppard to his feet. His legs immediately gave way beneath him, so they moved him to the wheelchair. McKay rolled the chair up to the control panel and then turned to punch some buttons on the computer. He turned back to Sheppard, who was watching him intently.

"I reset it. It's ready. John...be sure."

Sheppard smiled. "I am."

McKay just nodded. He backed up a step. Sheppard once again placed his hand into the depressions, but this time without fear. He closed his eyes and the blue light came up from the floor panel to engulf him once again. Several seconds later, it flowed back into the floor panel. McKay and Beckett immediately stepped up to either side of Sheppard. "Major," said Beckett.

Sheppard sat there motionless for a minute before looking up at McKay. "That was cool! Boy, do I have an early Christmas present for you."

McKay and Beckett grinned at each other. Somehow, McKay thought he had already received his present.

The next day, McKay sat in the chair beside Sheppard's bed. Beckett had insisted on several more days in the infirmary to run tests and give Sheppard a chance to rest. Sheppard didn't really know why he was so totally exhausted, but he didn't even want to argue with Beckett. That was probably not a good sign.

"Was I really that much trouble?" McKay had been telling him stories about his stint as a six year old. He had a bad feeling would never in 10,000 years live this down. Beckett had even made a few not so nice comments.

"I guarantee it was infinitely worse. I just can't find the words to properly describe it...Hey...I was curious...have you remembered any more of what happened. How did you feel? I mean, were you in there somewhere?'"

Sheppard looked uncomfortable. He shifted around in the bed for several minutes.

"Look, if you don't want to talk about it..."

"No...it's really not that. I just...I kind of remember, but at the same time I don't. It's hard to explain. Did you ever have a dream and when you wake up, you think you remember it. But then when you try to remember details, it starts fading away? That's kind of how I feel. I remember some of the testing...I remember hurting and being so scared I didn't think I could stand it...I remember feeling like I didn't belong anywhere..." he shuddered involuntarily. He frowned, obviously trying to remember something. "Was there something with Kavanagh, because I have this weird image in my mind..."

McKay held his hand out in a 'halt' position. "There is a really funny story to that, but for the sake of your career, I think you should probably remain ignorant of the matter. If we ever get rid of him, I promise I'll tell you."

Sheppard just looked at him oddly.

"Hey," said McKay. "I have a question for you. Do you remember working on equations and formulas with me on the computer? You fixed a couple of mine I'd been having trouble with and we collaborated on creating another one. Weir dropped me a hint that that was you, not a result of the ancient knowlege downloaded into your brain. It was the ancient knowledge, right?"

John waswatching his hands fiddle with the covers at his chest. He just smiled. "What do you think?"

McKay looked exasperated. "I don't know what to think. I mean I know you can figure out probabilities and distance/time computations super fast, but these are complicated mathematical concepts. It's not the same...but really, they didn't have anything to do with the ancient technolog itself..." He looked at Sheppard, still fiddling with the covers and smiling. Sheppard finally looked up at McKay's face and their eyes met briefly.

"It was you! You mean I worked with that stupid formula for weeks and you could have fixed it all along? I don't know whether to hug you or hit you."

"Well you sure better not hug me McKay. I'm pretty sure I remember beating Teyla with sticks, so I know I can whip your sorry butt. At least, in a couple of days I can. And by the way...could you keep it down a little?" Sheppard looked around to see if anyone else was around to hear the exchange.

"You don't want anyone to know. Why?" McKay prized his intelligence above all else, so it staggered his imagination to realize someone would not want to flaunt genius.

"It's just not me McKay. I don't know how to explain it. I kind of like fading into the woodwork. Sometimes it makes my job easier. I'd really rather not make a big deal about it. I'm not really trying to hide it so much as I'm just trying not to advertise it."

McKay nodded. "I won't tell anyone if you'll let me sneak to you for help occasionally."

Sheppard nodded his agreement. "You may then take all the credit."

McKay smiled and rubbed his hands together. "I think this could work."

They sat in silence for several minutes. Sheppard still seemed a little uncomfortable. He finally lifted his eyes to look at McKay. "Rodney...thanks."

McKay smiled at the friend he had learned so much about in the last few days. "Any time, major."

THE END


End file.
